When I was a very young girl a movie came out called Ten. I never saw it but have a vivid image of the woman, Bo Derek, running on the beach with a small swim suit, large boobs and corn row braids in her hair. I asked my older sister why it was called Ten and she responded sort of exasperatedly, “Because Jayne, she is a perfect Ten”. She looked like the happiest woman I had ever seen and clearly by my Dad’s response when he saw this image, she was a very important person. I didn’t know what she had done to become so happy and important but essentially if my Dad valued her and noticed her I wanted to be the exact same way...or as close to it as I could get.
Several years later I saw her again. Mom and Dad had gotten us a VCR for Christmas and we were so excited to go to the movie rental store and pick out our first movie. She was running on the cover of Ten, perfect. Exotic, important and inviting me to follow her. I did. It wasn’t a conscious thought. But in the years to follow I would spend hours exercising, looking in the mirror, waiting and hoping to become a "Ten" so maybe I could make my Dad proud and be sure he loved me and saw me and valued me.
Yesterday I sat at the swimming pool with three beautiful women. All four of us have kids and careers and are working hard to raise intelligent competent boys. As our gaggle of young boys splashed and played in the pool we sat on chaise lounges and caught up on life and what our plans were now that summer has arrived. Quickly the conversation turned to those parts of our bodies we despise. Our legs, our stomachs and our breasts. Too fat, too dimply, too big, too small. And then to notice the other women around, to make the judgments of who is “making it” and who isn’t. Seeing what lengths we will go to to become a ten, undergoing knives and surgeries and pain to be beautiful. How many dollars, hours and mutilation have we gone through to be valued?
What if we could teach this generation of boys and girls that there is so much more to us? That our value is beyond words and that these bodies are incredible and serve such a higher purpose? What if we could say to ourselves, “You are enough. You are more valuable than you could ever know?” Would we thank our legs that carry us where we need to go, bless our stomachs that stretched to carry those children, honor our breasts that have nursed those strong healthy boys. Could we believe it ourselves? Could we learn that there is this richness to life that is all around us to see? And if our focus can change to the beauty of this created world would we begin to see ourselves as a part of that beauty and submit to something bigger than ourselves?
I was talking with one of those women several days ago as we sat out on my deck and I lamented over losing my cool with my kids. I was mentioning how I wished I could have been more calm and loving when my friend said, “Well, guess what Jayne, you’re not perfect.” She couldn’t have known how profound those words were to me or what they would stir up for me in the days to follow. Those three words “You’re not perfect” freed something inside of me. Not because I didn’t know that already but because she stayed. I am not perfect and she still loves me. She’s not going anywhere.
This is a recurring message in my life in the last decade as I have met more and more gorgeous passionate women who are learning to love themselves in every facet of their being. As they accept and honor themselves and stop judging themselves, they offer that same gift to me. I can be honest about my fears and bad behavior and desperation. In the next breath I can be great and amazing and fabulous. Most of them are seeking perfection, but are beginning to understand that it is not our perfection we ultimately need. It is God’s. My human Dad is a good Dad but isn’t perfect and couldn’t fully give me what I needed to understand my value and worth. Maybe because he doesn’t fully understand his own value and worth, or maybe just because he isn’t perfect. God is the only True Perfect Being and He desperately loves me and sees every hidden part of me, even the places I am not ready to see. In His light, I can fully emerge out of my darkness covered in His perfection.
Thank you to all of the imperfect women in my life. And thank you Barb for reminding me “I am not perfect” and staying.
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