For as long as I can remember, there have been two things that make me feel terribly insecure. Sure, a zit here & there or carrying post partum weight would bother me, but not like these.
First, my height. Yep, my height. Born at 23 inches to a 6'5" father, odds were I was going to be tall. 71 and 3/4 inches=basically 6 foot. I've been told by many how they wished they could take a few inches from me and the 12 year old who towered over all of her friends & all of the boys wished the same. I couldn't shop at the same stores my friends did for jeans. I wore high waters all through middle school. I got in trouble in high school for my hand me down cheerleading uniform being too short. The photographer at homecoming brought out a stool for me to sit on beside by date so I wouldn't be taller than him in the picture. And I even wore flats, not pretty heels like my girlfriends did. I hated having to crouch down in pictures or stand in the back with the boys. I hated being asked how the weather was up here. Being called the jolly green giant. I turned down dates with nice guys because they were shorter than me. People would think we looked ridiculous.
Without getting too Christina Aguilera "don't look at me", I just hated being tall.
I carried this with me all the way to my wedding where I wore satin slippers under my gown just so I wouldn't come close to my 6'4" groom. The pictures would look awkward, I thought. Dustin would feel self conscious having his bride taller or just as tall as him.
Then recently, I bought my very first pair of wedges. They were cute, on sale, and comfy. The first night I wore them out, I carried a pair of flip flops in my purse. Ya know, "just in case these new shoes gave me a blister". Fib. It was just in case I felt so awkward & wanted to go back down 3 inches. And by the end of the night, those wedges were shoved in my bag.
Again, I bought another pair of on sale cute comfy wedges. I couldn't resist. And decided to wear them last Saturday. No back up flip flops. Just me & my 6'3" self. And? I loved it. Honestly. I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I'm not sure what finally clicked, or why it took this long. I'm just glad I finally came to terms with the fact that yes, I'm taller than the average bear. Not saying you'll find me in 6 inch stilettos any time soon, but it's because I'd surely snap my ankle in half, not because of how tall they'd make me.
Secondly, my "wonk eye". It very may go unnoticed to many, but to me it's the very first thing I have to look at in a picture of myself. I have a pinched nerve by my right eye so when I smile, it goes squinty and my eyes are uneven. See?
Again, something that I always hated. Do you know badly I irritate people when I insist on taking more pictures because "my friggin' eye looks wonky!" How much unnecessary anxiety I had over my yearbook/senior/engagement/wedding pictures? Or how long I spent in front of a mirror growing up practicing different smiles to maybe find one where my eyes look semi similiar.
Worst of all, do you know how many precious moments I erased from my SD card because of how much I hated this? Too many over the years. All because one of my eyes is bigger than the other when I smile.
WHO CARES ASHLEY?!
Seriously. It's unique. Character building even. My vision isn't affected by this, so why am I so obsessed over it? Um hello, this kind of thing doesn't seem to have stopped Forest Whitaker, amirite?
It's time for me to let it go. To smile as big as I want. I'm gonna.
Now I know this looks like a rambling of me pointing out petty dislikes about myself for all to see when in all actuality it's me coming to terms with it. Flipping the bird to the negative. Embracing the positive. These are my pefect imperfections. This is me.
I like me. ::high fives 12 year old self::