One of my fondest memories growing up was watching my mom do her hair and makeup. I used to sit and watch her in awe as she curled and painted. When she was on top of her game, she felt that you should never go out of the house without putting some effort into yourself. Sometimes we were late because of this, but she always looked beautiful.
It’s amazing what you choose to take and leave from your childhood. I struggle with this concept at times. I enjoy getting dressed up and “beautified” at times, it makes me feel good. But most days, I leave the house with a high bun and fresh face, pair of ripped jeans and a tshirt.
My girls sit and watch me. They ask for makeup, I refuse, they pout. I tell them they are beautiful without it, and no amount of face paint will ever make them shine more then they already do. I try to show them to be comfortable in their own skin, which often means a lot of us in the house only sport underwear at times! I know that this won’t last forever But I hope that they can watch their momma do both. Take pride in the natural, and take enjoyment out of adding some color.
I used to feel like I had to “keep up appearances’ and that couldn’t be accomplished without my war paint. How exhausting it got at times. But it’s funny when you get in a self accepting spot, that you no longer care about this, because you only have you to impress. That when I take the time to actually brush my hair, it’s for me. And when you quiet the people around you that you’ve allowed to make you feel like you aren’t enough, you realize, you are more then enough. And that is beauty all on it’s own.