This Woman

 

I recently had a dream that I was standing on a platform above a crowd.  As I descended the steps, it was as though the camera switched. I looked at myself from the perspective of the crowd of observers before me.  

I was fully nude. 

I looked just as I do in real life.  Overweight, older, scarred.  The only difference in my appearance was that my hair was shoulder length and a little fuller than it is now.  That was the only feature the dream altered.

There was no feeling of being a wanton, or of doing something risqué or of being an exhibitionist.  There was no self-consciousness.  I was completely unconcerned that my breasts sag, my belly protrudes, or my thighs slap.  I went down the rather long flight of steps confidently without embarrassment or fear, or shame. I held my head high.  I put one foot in front of the other with grace and without the need to look down.  Each step was sure.

I walked down those steps as though it were completely natural for me to be nude in public.  I spoke to everyone I met along the way, looking them in the eye.

And then I woke.

That dream really stuck with me.  I pondered it.  What on earth could it mean?  I thought of that woman who was myself and wondered why she was so striking.  And then one afternoon, while I was doing something ordinary, like washing dishes or folding laundry, it hit me exactly what I'd been in that dream.

I was comfortable in my own skin.

I have never been thin.  Attractive but heavy, all my life, though I didn't get heavy until I was older.  As a teen I was 'plump' but not really fat. I was most definitely the girl, the woman, most likely to be a wallflower at any party. Try as I might I seldom pull off any outfit perfectly.  There's always something just slightly off beat that robs me of the perfection I'm striving for.  These days I have thin hair.  I suppose that lush head of hair in the dream was a bow to my wistfully wishing I had the thick head of hair I had in my youth.  

Not that life is all about appearances, but we do tend to judge others and ourselves by what we see on the outside, don't we?  No one will ever be as harsh and ugly as we can be to the reflection in that mirror before us.

We don't like our hair, our face, the shape of our nose.  We criticize our body.  We dislike what we're wearing and sometimes we hate everything in the closet.  We discount our accomplishments, forget that people in our life show us nothing but love and often treat them with suspicion when they voice admiration of our appearance.  Why, oh why, is it so hard to merely say, "Thank you" when we are given a sincere compliment.  And we do know the sincere ones from the ones that are not...But we show a decided lack of trust in those we might love deeply and respect when we shun their efforts to share their admiration of us.  "What do you know?!" we seem to be saying.  Honestly?  They know a lot more than we do!

We're not just judging ourselves by all the outward things, either.  Oh no.  We're also judging our character, our past and recent failures, our spiritual lacks, our inability to do something new perfectly straightaway.  If our children are troubled or troubling, then it must be ourselves who ruined their lives. 

Fact number 1 to repeat until you really hear it:  NO ONE is perfect.

Fact number 2: whatever you did wrong with your kids, it probably wasn't any of the things you think it was. So just let that worry go.

And let me just take a moment to sincerely wish that we might see others as they truly are on the inside instead of just based on what they look like on the outside.  I'll bet there would be fewer people who are raised up on those platforms we push them up on and tout as 'the best'.  Never mind.  This is about me, as it happens...

All that to say, that this dream was a total revelation to me.  Because it wasn't just about how I looked but how I felt, inside.  It wasn't that I saw no flaw, but that I wasn't the selfish, hard, cold woman I o often fear I might be.  I was quite all right with who I was, inside out. 

Feeling comfortable in my own skin is a major shift.  Perhaps it helps that I have learned to love and accept the body I drew in the bag of bones lottery at birth.  I've learned to not worry about the parts I can't see and to appreciate what every part I can see has done to carry me through life thus far.  And perhaps, in reality, once I shush that inner voice that will tell me all that I am not, I can hear the real me and know that I am not what I hear the inner critic claims.

I wish...I wish I had come to this place years ago.  I can't help but think of what I might have done with my life had I had an ounce of confidence in the woman I was.  But then again, I like the woman I've grown to be.  And she got here by going through all the messy pathways of the past.

The woman I am is comfortable making mistakes, which means I'm more willing to try something new, or to go back and attempt to do something I once failed at (hello A in Algebra at 62).  The woman I am now is less apt to think whatever is about to spew out of her mouth is natural wisdom and to ask that it be granted to her to keep her mouth shut until it is God's wisdom that speaks.  The woman I am now is far more likely to 'wait and see' because I know now that things are going to change. They rarely stay the same (aside from the occasional crazy long season). 

This woman knows that this body, this mind, this soul, this life is a testament to what God can do. And that I am always and forever will be a work in progress. 

And this woman...She's comfortable in her own skin.

P.S.  John often plays this song when he's worshipping in the music room, and I find it incredibly powerful.  I hope you enjoy it as well.  The site I'm sharing has the lyrics.  Stop and meditate on those for a bit.