Cover Girl

I felt extra beautiful today.

That's a rare emotion these days. So, to celebrate vanity, I spent a good half hour taking self-portraits that are anything but artistic. Quite raw, actually; no edits, no tinkering- Not even a poster-collage of sorts from the mobile app.

And I feel quite happy with the results.

Not because I think I've achieved the glossy-magazine standard.

But maybe because, I have realized that despite of that non-achievement, I appreciate myself.

So today's self-validation mantra is: I am beautiful. (No matter what they say.)

Five years ago, I stopped buying fashion magazines. Primarily because I wanted to keep the expenses at the most minimum possible. As I sat on my desk one night, I realized I spend about P1,200 every year for something that I browse once then shelf and shove and then ultimately forgotten. (1,200 to put into little girl's account instead)

Secondly, sometimes, most of the time the magazine just make me feel: not good enough, not rich enough, not beautiful enough, not living enough.

Nothing is enough!

So I decided to quit the addiction, even if not for good, but for a good long while. And so..

I stopped buying, and started looking in. and I stopped asking myself these questions:

Am I really that fat?
Am I really better with blonde-wash hair?
Am I really prettier with the new chiffon dress and peep toes?
Am I really gonna be good enough?

I tried re-inventing the physical attributes. Danced to lose weight. Ate to gain a few. Dyed the hair ash blonde. Cut it short. Curl. Dabbled on the different make-up and yes, finally, found the perfect foundation.

Just to give in to the madness of finding myself- and my home.

And after five long years, I started to love the imperfections that I have.
Not because I have given up on trying to be better, but because I feel that my imperfection is the source of my beauty.

Doesn't the flaw point out the perfect other part?

I haven't completely pulled away from the glitz of fashion blogs and magazines, I still subscribe to my favorite shops' tweets. But I have (finally) stopped the never-ending self-scrutiny.

I have accepted that I will never be 100 lbs again.
I have learned the best hairstyle to frame my round face and down-play the cheek bones.
I have found that the dresses and shoes don't make the statement, but the way they are carried do.
I realized I will never be good enough, because I am already better!

The moment I decided to forget what other people had to say about my weight, my fashion, my preferences, and accepted the whole of me without but's and prejudice, I have become the person I have always wanted to be: comfortable in my own skin.

It was a long journey though, with a million up's and a more million down's. But we all age. And we all get to the point, sooner or later, that we find that the only opinion that will matter is our own (and maybe our cheerleading/inspirational/comical other person whom we consider a whole of our whole.)

Precisely because the voice in our hearts, is the only voice who can make or break. And become master of our souls.

The road to acceptance is almost a lonely journey so I guess it also doesn't hurt to have a person (just one is fine) who will look at you and love you like you've always been the cover girl you always were.

Someone who will do the ra ra ra and kiss you and love you even if you got a huge zit sitting on your nose.

I am blessed to have found this one person. Who said I am pretty "with or without make-up"; "no tummy or super fat tummy";

My one person is sleeping soundly now, with her little foot sneaking out of her now-small blankie.
My number one fan, and my primary reason why I feel beautiful.

I must be someone beautiful to have a daughter as beautiful as the day and as serene as the night.

Good night, lovely mommies. <3 nbsp="nbsp">

We are beautiful!

(And oh btw, I have started buying magazines again -- it's not their fault I had a gazillion questions and insecurities lolz)