This past weekend, I went home to Indiana for Memorial Day, which was the perfect way to spend the holiday. I returned to Atlanta feeling rested and refreshed - filled to the brim with love & contentment. There is something to be said for spending time with people you love outside the bustle of the city.
While I was there, I did a photography session with the very talented Sami Renee. As I continue to grow my coaching business, it feels important to have more professional pictures - instead of just cropping out my friends and a glass of wine from group photos.
I've been so excited this week to receive the photos from her, but, last night, as the email popped in my inbox that they were ready, my breath caught. I thought: what if I hate them? What if I don't look pretty in any of them? What if I wasted time and money and don't look good in any of the pictures and can't use them?
As I looked through the pictures, I found myself being critical first: my smile looks fake, my arms don't look good there, my face looks round.
My first thought was to pick myself apart, as opposed to see the beauty in them.
As I sorted through the pictures, I started wondering: what if these were of my sisters or mom? I wouldn't be critiquing them, but instead finding joy in the way her mouth opens as she laughs and proud that she is standing tall and confidently.
Why don't we choose to see ourselves through the eyes of love first? Why do we choose first to pick ourselves apart?
As we head into the beautiful, wonderful season that is summer, I'm making a promise to see myself with eyes of love first. Not to pick myself apart in a swimsuit or shorts. Not to hold on to a towel like a security blanket or fear beach weekends and pools. Not to examine myself with a critical eye, but instead one of love and confidence.
I'm making an effort to see my body as beautiful and able - not to give into the world's constant message that we should take up less space. I'm living wholly and fully in the body that the Lord gave me, for it is capable and strong.