I’ve always thought of my GPA like a bathroom scale. Both numbers I’m usually not that excited to read. Granted, I don’t have a terrible GPA or an unhealthy body mass – I just don’t like how much numbers can change the value of myself so easily.
I don’t like feeling good about myself when I did well on an exam and bad about myself when I did poorly on an exam. I wish I could feel good about myself whether or not I did well or poorly on an exam. But it’s not easy.
Two days ago I made a list of things I liked about myself. Any talents, interests, intelligence, gifts, dreams I though I had I wrote down. My music, my interest in public speaking, my love of children – all these were added to the list.
Then a disturbing thought occurred. What if I woke up tomorrow and all these were gone? What if I lost my sense of humor; my friends, my academics, my work, my talents and my dreams?
If that happened, where would I find my value?
There are a lot of things I dislike in the world. One of the things I dislike the most is how shopping malls are constantly playing Bruno Mars’ “Just The Way You Are”. If they play that song to make girls feel better about themselves while trying on clothes, it’s a lousy attempt. The message of the song says to me: you’re beautiful just the way you are…as long as you have the right physical qualities. Ironic, isn’t it?
The reason I enjoy children so much is because they don’t need others to validate their worth and beauty. When a girl is six, she dresses up and feels like a queen. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know any woman over the age of sixteen that can dress up and still feel like a queen. Little girls can go into grocery stores wearing a princess costume and not feel out of place in the least. Children know they’re beautiful; they know they’re important. When we loose that sense of childhood, we loose a sense of innocence about ourselves.
Several years ago I watched several episodes of TLC’s Toddlers and Tiaras. Luckily, the show isn’t on much any more, and even if it is, I doubt many people still watch it. The show, as made clear by the title, is centered on little girls forced to participate in beauty pageants. Some people have told me it’s just for fun. But it didn’t look like the little girls who were forced to wear make-up, style their hair, wear high heels, don plastic tiaras and strut down a run away were having a whole lot of fun. I think most little girls have the most fun when they’re being themselves.
Our culture has raped that childlike innocence.
I’ve always wanted to redeem that innocence back. The innocence that lets us pick ourselves up after we fall; the innocence that lets us look in the mirror and think we’re beautiful no matter what.
The innocence that doesn’t compare, doesn’t compete, doesn’t judge. It’s the innocence that brings contentment. That’s what I want back. I want the ability to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and say “hello beautiful” even if I have bags under my eyes after a long all-nighter without coffee.
But put beauty aside for the moment. What if I lost my efficiency at work? What if my grades nose-dived? How does it feel to think about that?
Hold on to that feeling for a moment. It’s the feeling when the boy of your dreams asks for your number, but your phone never rings. It’s the feeling when you failed an exam, and your friends got A’s. It’s the feeling you get when you were forgotten, not invited, lost. It’s the feeling you get when you shout, “who am I?” and all you hear is your own echo.
The question reminds me if The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis when Eustace turns into a dragon. This part of the book always makes me want to cry for poor Eustace. Eustace tries to scrape of the scales, but he is only left to his silent weeping. Only Aslan’s roar can strip him of his scales. Aslan’s removal techniques are painful and seem almost impossible to endure. Although Aslan can bring pain, he also brings great relief.
Eustace had to have the same feeling some of my readers do when they come home at night and wash off the make up, take off the specially-picked clothes, and turn down their guard. There is that nagging feeling that you’ve discovered who you really are and you wonder what’s there.
What scales need to come off me?
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