Posted by: Judy | September 27, 2016

Truth in writing…

Have I ever mentioned how much it drives me crazy when one of my characters punches me with a truth?

I’m harmlessly writing along, weaving a story out of thousands of word, and suddenly a few come together that make me stop and think. There are the ones that make me laugh. There are the ones that give me pause. There are the ones that remind me of eternal truths. Then there are the ones that slap me upside the head saying ‘pay attention.’

I need to make some changes.

I know. I know. This whole blog is about changing.

This was a you’ve-been-neglecting-aspects-because-you-pretend-no-one-notices-so-stop-it kind of smack.

I’m not careful about my appearance. I figure as heavy as I am most people aren’t looking anyway.

My characters have informed me I have the completely wrong attitude, and I need to change it. Posthaste.

How I dress and present myself is a reflection on how I see myself.

Do I see myself as beautiful?

Well, no, but why am I telling the whole world I feel this way? It isn’t enough I shame myself? I want the world to shame me?

To be honest, I’ve rarely received any negative comments.

So, why am I working to invite them?

I don’t need to worship the mirror. I need to stop treating it like the enemy. The mirror helps me see that I don’t have dirt on my nose and my skirt is in place, not tucked into my slip. Yes, that’s happened, a couple times. Embarrassing. Even more embarrassing, it’s been men who have kindly let me know. The women said nothing. Interesting thought.

Thinking “I am beautiful” is all well and good but useless if I don’t allow it to make changes in my life for the more beautiful.

This is going to be a tough one, but manageable, with time, effort, and practice.

Word Count Update: 3,500 words added yesterday. Thanks God.

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Responses

  1. I understand this and struggle here too. I don’t want to be vain and spend hours choosing clothes or putting on makeup, but perhaps I need to care more than I do. I don’t have many clothes that fit me properly or without holes in them. Without my income I can’t bring myself to spend money on myself. I make sure the kids look nice everyday and I am content to put my hair in the same ponytail and toss on my worn out baggy jeans. I think it is partially shaming and punishing myself. Partially my “whatever I don’t care” attitude. Partially I don’t want attention or compliments. I want to hide when I go out, I want to slip into the store unnoticed, not catch anyone’s eye. I am not entirely sure if this is shame, fear, or simply exhaustion as I don’t want to deal with anything more than what I have planned.

    • It’s a tough one. We haven’t been taught we are worth taking care of… to break that lie, I have to treat myself like I am worth taking care of. It’s weird to think about because I understand on one level. I wake up in the morning and dress for the day. It’s been decades since I spent the day in pajamas. It’s uncomfortable and people say, “Pajamas all day long! Everyone loves that!” Ummm… no. It’s… vulnerable… my clothes are a form of armor… they protect me and keep the world at a distance… I at least put on lip gloss. I don’t often wear mascara because it sometimes bothers my eyes. I usually do my hair, but since it’s long, “fixing” my hair means brushing and putting part of it in a barrette. I’d consider putting it in a ponytail fixing it. I’ve done something with it. I noticed some of my clothes have holes in them. They’re comfortable! I also know that if I really believed I was beautiful, I would also believe I’m worth wearing clothes that have no holes. Interesting side note is that I feel better about myself and my appearance if I fix those holes, when it’s possible. I’ve also had times in my life when I pretend that how I look doesn’t matter. If it didn’t matter, I wouldn’t feel guilty for refusing to put in any effort. I wouldn’t think about it or even notice it. Facing a lie I tell myself. The truth is that my appearance matters to me. I want to be… not beautiful in the way the world demands but aware that I am taking care of myself, making an effort to improve the outside as much as I work on the inside.

      Part of what brought this on was that recently I slipped on a jumper and t-shirt and called it good. I was only making one short errand. In and out of the place in less than five minutes. I assured myself it didn’t matter. The young lady I dealt with asked what I was doing the rest of the day, and I explained writing. I told her I wrote clean Christian romance novels. She’d never heard of it. I gave her my card. I was embarrassed by my appearance because it wasn’t representative of me the writer.

      In order to change, I have to acknowledge there needs to be a change, and then I have to decide what direction I want to go.


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