I watch my daughter parade around in her blanket, strategically draped across her shoulders to make a princess gown. She positively glows! She knows she is beautiful.
Someday, that will change. The insecurities will surface.
And she will spend the whole rest of her life trying to feel beautiful again.
Every once in a while, she will capture it, if only for a few hours, only to return to that tormented and tortured world in her mind where she is not ever good enough.
I wish I could insulate her from all of that. But I don’t know how when I struggle with it myself.
My only consolation is that there is not a single woman anywhere who is completely at peace with who they are, no matter how expensive their smile or how affirming their upbringing.
Secretly, we are all the same.