I think I have a pretty good body image.
I am happy with who I am.
I wear what I want, I eat what I like and I made peace with my curly hair years ago.
I have no time for uncomfortable shoes, contacts that make my eyeballs itch or cosmetics that cover up my real, actual face.
Since becoming mom to a beautiful, strong little girl, I have been purposeful about speaking positively about my body.
And hers. And yours.
Apparently salt water is my kryptonite.
You see, I am white.
Like SPF 70 and a t-shirt to avoid sunburn white.
And yet I find myself at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean with this beautiful, strong girl (not so little anymore). And I am thinking of you.
You know who you are—friends posting beach pictures with perfectly tanned bodies, perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly relaxed smiles.
I feel a mess. I am covered in sunscreen, sweat and sand.
I am exhausted from chasing a toddler over uneven terrain while keeping one eye on a child who is overly confident in unpredictable water.
The beach is not my happy place.
In this moment, I speak of you, Facebook-perfect friends.
Immediately, my daughter calls me on it.
You are beautiful, mom.
Stop comparing yourself to them.
Just stop.
She is right.
So I smile for a picture,
A real, actual, happy smile.
Because even though the beach is not my happy place.
In this moment,
Being her mom is.
Friend, if you feel a mess today.
Covered in sand or regret, worried about measuring up.
Her words are for you too.
You are beautiful.
Stop comparing yourself to them.
Just stop.
You are beautiful.