How A Chin Hair Made Me Cry

Funny enough, it was finding a chin hair in the mirror the other morning that finally had me in tears.

You know how, sometimes, you find yourself overwhelmed by the sheer number of items on your To-Do List, and you wonder how you’ll find the time to get it all done and not let any of the balls drop and all you can do is cry while your husband stares at you like you grew a third head?
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Verbal Warfare 101

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

Who thought up that little gem of a lie?

I don’t know about you, but some of the worst scars I carry are internal – sharpshooter-aimed insults and criticisms so cruelly delivered as to fund my therapist’s Mediterranean vacations well into my retirement years. Then again, I really didn’t engage in a lot of extreme sports… I was more the “read and pretend” type… but whatever.
Not the point!
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Not-So-Hottie-Body Days

I like to think that I have a preeeeeeeetty healthy self-esteem.
I love myself, I like myself, I don’t shy away from speaking my mind (internally and to others) about the physical things I enjoy about my body (Boobs! Hips! Jiggle-Belly!), and I definitely geek out when one of my kids curls up on me and plays with my jiggly arms.
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Loving the Body Guilty

If you’re like me (and I’m assuming you are, because I’m human and that’s what we humans do – we search for connections to others), you are more comfortable dishing out compliments than you are at receiving them. You are quick to tell your BFF that her new hairdo is awesome, that your significant other looks especially dashing, or that your coworker really knocked it out of the park the other day. You could wax poetic about the high points of your child’s artwork or your neighbor’s adorable baby.

But the second that spotlight is turned on you, things get… weird.
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I’m The Biggest He’s Ever Dated?!

… and it took me a while to be okay with that statement.

I mean, hey – I am down with my size. I happen to love my size, in fact, and as you know I fully intend to tone it up before rounding it out a bit more. Still, his statement brought a crashing wave of unexpected emotions.

"Um... thank... you...?"

“Um… thank… you…?”

I didn’t know whether to feel elated –

“HELL YES I AM SHALL I BAKE YOU (read: ME) SOME COOKIES I LOVE COOKIES!”

– or whether I should/did feel deflated, somehow. Shocked. Embarrassed. Ashamed.
Hurt, even.
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