Mirror Mirror full of lies ~
Because the King wasn’t able to be near His daughter, He wrote her letters. He took great effort to appoint men of valor to deliver His words to her. “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!” But because her heart had been lied to, His words of love bounced off her without ever piercing the shell.
As she grew she found that His words of love no longer simply bounced off of her heart, the poison ran deep in her and she began to become bitter. “How beautiful you are and how pleasing, O love, with your delights!” her Father would write, “Yeah right.” was the response of her heart.
The poison began to seep into her letters with her Father – “Oh Father, why am I like this?” “Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?” Not understanding that her Father was explaining her value to Him, the daughter wept. She felt surely that her very own Father was telling her that she had been created for nothing more than common use. What princess wants to be seen as common?!!
Where…how was your understanding of beauty birthed? Mine was born in a closet – my Grandfather’s closet – where I was hiding from my brother in a game of “Hide & Seek.” There, at the back, I found a stack of pornography as tall as I was. While I waited for my seeking brother to find me, I perused the stack and pondered on why my Grandfather would have such things. Later that day I asked my Grandmother. She pooh – poohed me and told me that Grandpa just liked to look at the ladies in there – he thought they were beautiful. Had I been older and wiser, I’d have heard the bitterness and frustration in her voice. Instead I heard “Gospel Truth.”
As a little girl, I can remember twirling before my own Dad and asking him, “How do I look?” His answer was “You look okay.” And it never changed. It was always, “You look okay.” (As a side note, that is what he told me moments before walking down the aisle to be married, as well. Not that I asked – because by then, I knew better.) It wasn’t too many years after finding my Grandfather’s stash of porn that I found my Dad’s, as well. It explained everything to me – it explained why I would never be anything better than “okay.”
I spent my youth aching to rise above “okay.” All the other girls around me were beautiful. I knew that – I had eyes, you know. I, on the other hand, was….common. The pain of this was revealed in my quick responses and verbal volley ball. If someone remotely attempted to give me something that even hinted of a compliment…I would respond with a snappy retort.
The first night Jeff and I went out, he leaned over and said, “You are very beautiful.” I leaned back over and said, “And YOU are very good for my ego.” He looked like I’d slugged him. He told me later he was absolutely gobsmacked – girls aren’t supposed to respond to compliments like that.
That comment – that brush off – was the beginning of a pattern we developed for a while. He would compliment me – I would respond in some form of snappy wit – slipping quickly to scathing. This pattern didn’t last for long, he simply stopped complimenting me. This, sadly, (but not surprisingly when we consider who the father of lies is) coincided with the beginning of our having babies.
Now, I am not one of those ladies who do cute pregnant. I do HUGE pregnant. With our 5th someone stopped in a parking lot and asked if it was safe for me to not be in a hospital. With our 3rd, our pediatrician, who had been in practice in excess of 20 yrs at that point, came and took my picture because he’d never seen anyone get so large. When I got pregnant with Danica – they told me I wouldn’t need maternity clothes until I was 16 to 20 wks pregnant. I was 8 when my clothes simply wouldn’t fit any longer. I think we’ve got the timing of my beginning to look pregnant down. I believe it’s about 12 minutes after conception. 🙄 To go from tiny (like size 2 or 4) to HUGE in 12 minutes made for a few tears – not all of them hormonal.
(To be continued…… Please, feel free to share your story, as much as you feel comfortable. I have a suspicion when we get to the bottom of all this, we’re going to find there are some pretty common threads.)