I saw this post over at Sporty's today. And I saw that Oprah show last night too. I was sad for all three of those women who weren't happy with their looks. The one girl, yes girl, who was only 28 and has had 26 surgeries was waaaayyy more beautiful before she had all those surgeries. Her little sister described her as looking plastic, or like a clown. I completely agree - its exactly what I thought when I saw the promos.

Our country is obsessed with perfection. Its insane. All those hot celebs in magazines....we ALL know they don't look that perfect in real life. We ALL know that they were airbrushed to look that good. We ALL know that they had a team of people working on their hair and makeup. Yet, we ALL ignore the fact that we know that, and *wish* we looked like that.

I don't know....I think it all boils down to self-esteem. And, I think that stems from our childhood. At least, in my experience it does. I can thank my mother for teaching me to be happy with who I am. I cannot tell you the number of times I heard her say, "You are no better than anyone else, and they are no better than you." When everyone else was wearing Guess jeans, I was wearing Levi's and Wranglers. Why? Guess jeans were too expensive and we needed to learn to be thankful for what we did have. Of course, as you can imagine, I wasn't part of the "in" crowd in high school. But you know what, it didn't really bother me that much because I knew I was a good person and that all of the people I did hang around were good people. I knew that the appearance of the person didn't "make" the person. I liked the person I was. I liked the fact that I was friendly to everyone.

I also had red hair, and I think I was the only one with red hair (probably until HS) so you can imagine what kind of teasing I received in middle school. In fact, I don't share with anyone the name I was called to this day for fear of them laughing and bringing back those old feelings. Middle School...some very formative years. I HATED my hair. Not only was it red, it was curly. Lets just add fuel to the fire (no pun intended and please don't make a joke either). There are times when I still HATE my hair. Not because its red - no....everyone likes red hair these days! But because my curls are so random - straight here, curly there, wavy there. I pretty much think it sucks. BUT, I know that my hair doesn't make me. Yes, when its fixed just right it can change the way I feel about myself, but its hair! Who cares?! I'm just glad I have hair. My last post here also mentions how I wouldn't mind looking half as good as Jessica Simpson, but that's just a thought that crossed my mind. And yes, I wouldn't mind going down a couple of sizes, or having the chest that I had when I was nursing, but I don't obsess over it. The things I really and truly care about aren't my hair, or my butt or chest. No. The things I care about the most are my family (whole family...husband, baby, parents, sister, sisters family, in-laws...) and friends, and the relationships I build with each of them. Those are the things that are going to sustain me in my golden years. Those are the things that make me truly happy.