How would your life be different if you knew you were beautiful?

This is the question I’ve been asking myself for the past two weeks.

Words have power, and “beauty” is a powerful word. You’re rolling your eyes, but it’s true. Not an air-filled confection like “pretty,” “beauty” has weight and substance. It has meaning. Beauty is how we talk about nature and God and newborns. It’s the encounters that stir our souls, inducing lumps in throats and hearts. “Pretty” has none of that.

A friend of mine, Laurie Brown, is a professional photographer. I am a tireless promoter, wanting to help her create the success she deserves. So when she told me she wanted to launch a new product called "Modern Glamour Photography" and asked if it was something I'd be interested in, I laughed hard (as I do), then because my thing is to "just say yes" I pretty much had to say, Yeah, OK: YES! 

Her premise is that women with children are absent from the family photographic history and that we need to make intentional space (and time) to document ourselves. Because we're often the defacto family paparazzi, there are a million snaps of kids and kids with dads or other family members, but no mom. Unless we MAKE the men or other people in our lives take the picture, we're destined to live in memory alone. Given there is rarely anyone else around to "make" take a picture at all, my experience is that this is true x10 for single mothers..

So she photographed me.

And it was fun! There was professional hair and make-up and I would have said yes just for the sheer joy of having someone else deal with my hair. I even booked a night out afterward, because if it’s not a law, it should be: never waste good hair on Netflix.

The kids were present and part of the photoshoot too. Used to seeing me in yoga pants and a pony tail, they were suspicious and profoundly confused by “Glam-Mom,” not seeing the point of it, at all.

A week passed. And then I saw the photos.

And it was… interesting.

Sometimes when we see photos of ourselves, either really great or really awful, it's confusing. There's a strange distance or disconnect: “Who is THAT?” In this case, I could see the photos actually look like me which is why my response was so curious. They made me feel incredibly awkward and a little embarrassed.

Why? Because I looked…

Ah, geez.

I think, in those photographs I look...

Beautiful.

A picture might be worth a thousand words, but no one mentions their potential for deep revelation.

I’ve allowed “pretty,” but never have I associated with the word “beautiful.  In my life I’ve been the anti-Beyonce, disowning and distancing myself from that kind of boss ownership. No more so than at this point in my life: a 47 year old body, a crinkly face, those stray, wiry grey hairs... And it's not that I don't embrace all of that - I totally do. It's also true though that acceptance of our personal changing reality is a long, plodding hill to climb, making concepts like physical beauty, at least, even more of a challenge than usual.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. - Maya Angelou

Part of the problem is that historically, like so many of us, I sought validation outside myself.  In love in particular, I hoped for a reflection of what I wanted to be true: that I was charming, smart, funny, irresistible, a little bit exceptional and yes, even beautiful.

So it is that I’ve almost universally attracted partners who reflect back not my hopes, but my latent, unconscious fears. Consequently, in those mirrors I've found the diametric opposite of all things lovely or good.

So I wonder, what if I’d always had the calm confidence of knowing I was beautiful instead? Inside and out? We are not closed systems, and given that every part of ourselves touches every other part, I don’t think it's too dramatic to consider that MY WHOLE LIFE WOULD BE DIFFERENT.  Better, different. Less pain and even outright trauma, different.

I’m not talking about an ego-driven knowing of the finger-snapping-z’s-in-the-air/I’m-all-that variety. It’s not something you would ever mention at all, in fact. I’m talking about quiet and authentic knowing; the ownership of inalienable truths. Honest, kind or spiritual people don’t talk about how honest, kind or spiritual they are, for example. They just are.

Beauty — be not caused — It is
Chase it, and it ceases
Chase it not, and it abides — Emily Dickinson

And I want it to be different for my daughter. For my son too, but the beauty business is a unique cross for girls in this culture to bear.

I’m reminded of an article I read a few years ago by a woman recalling the day she figured out her mother wasn’t as beautiful as she’d always thought. She was 9 years old and as she heard her mother list a litany of  personal “problems” - her weight, her sagging skin, her disastrous hair - the penny dropped. She suddenly saw her mother not through her own loving eyes, but through her mother’s hateful ones.

That day two things happened. Not only was it the day she stopped seeing her mother as beautiful, it was the day she stopped seeing herself as beautiful too.

Because in the end, we all do as they do, not as they say.

If the validation and reflection of my daughter’s inherent beauty can come from looking within rather than from without, I’ll feel like I’ve saved her at least a few unneccessary wounds.

I’ve been using these (surprising) photos as an excuse to quietly, privately, try it on: “beautiful.” For myself, but for my kids too. So far, it’s like fabulous new shoes. They don’t feel great, but because you love them you're determined to either break them in or at least get used to them enough to wear them in public.

The pictures still make me wince a little, but like uncomfortable new shoes, I am getting used to them.  They make me feel shy and exposed, but I'm leveraging them as an unexpected opportunity to grow more into myself. Growth only comes from getting outside your comfort zone and all that.

Besides which, here’s the other thing I'm pretty sure is true: Even if I can’t own this whole "I'm beautiful" business today, these pictures are a record for my kids and a testament for me 20 or 30 years from now and I will be SO HAPPY I have them. As I look back, I’m sure I’ll think “Damn, girl!! What the hell was your gorgeous problem, anyway?? You should’ve OWNED that!”

Do it. Give the camera to your partner, your friends, hire Laurie, but put yourself in the picture. You're more beautiful than you know. 

If you're interested in viewing the whole gallery along with a short video, you can do so here.