Okay. This one's been brewing for a while, so it may turn into a bit of a rant, but the time has come to inject another perspective into the discussion. I'm sure you've come across some of the same articles and graphics as I have on Facebook - you know, the ones that say we should praise our daughters for things other than their beauty. That we should avoid words like "pretty" and "princess". That we should focus on other qualities so that they know they're worth so much more than how they look. And I agree with a lot of that stuff - I definitely want my daughter to know she's valuable and loved for more than her looks. I'm just worried that the pendulum is swinging a little too far to an extreme that says, "It's wrong to want to feel beautiful" and "Let's avoid the topic of physical beauty altogether when talking to girls." What I do agree with in these articles is that we have bought in to a very narrow and life-sucking definition of beauty. I most certainly do not want my daughter to grow up believing that she has to be a certain size, have a certain hair colour, and wear just the right clothes to be considered beautiful. But let's not throw the baby out with the bath water. Just because we live in a culture that tries to sell us the lie that we must meet a certain narrow standard of beauty in order to be desirable and worthy of love, let's not abandon the idea of physical beauty altogether.
As a young girl, I knew I didn't meet the cultural standard for beauty. I can remember comparing myself to the other girls in my class as young as 5 years old, and consoling myself with the fact that there was one other girl who was at least as heavy as me. By the time I got to junior high and a boy tried to hit on me at the back of the bus on a band trip (!) I laughed and tried to act all flirty, but I was actually terrified to take him seriously - he couldn't possibly find me attractive so there was no way I was going to make myself vulnerable enough to do what he was suggesting and get laughed at by everyone when the joke was revealed. By the time I was 29 years old and dating Brian, my belief in my own lack of beauty was so entrenched that I couldn't quite understand why he would call me beautiful. I liked it when he told me that, and his love made (and continues to make) me feel beautiful on the inside, but I struggled to make sense of how he could look at me and use a word like 'beautiful'. I still struggle to accept his compliments after nine years of marriage, and I think that's a shame.
So what did I need as a young girl? Did I need people to focus on my strengths? I think I did that quite well on my own. I became quite confident in my intellect, my sense of humour, and other 'internal' qualities and strengths. I enjoyed excelling at things like math and science, partially because a lot of other girls didn't. I knew the 'real' me was loved by friends and family, but I still felt like the physical part of me was an unfortunate and awkward package. For most of my growing up years and well in to my twenties I feared that no man would ever see past that package to the beauty I knew/hoped was within. And this is one of the things that concerns me with so many of these articles I've read recently: if we ignore our daughters' physical beauty, we are leaving them to form their self-concept and their understanding of their appearance from other sources. They will go to their peers and magazines and movies and all sorts of other shallow, largely incorrect sources to determine how attractive they are. This is not where I want my daughter to get her sense of her own beauty. I do not want her to grow up believing what I believed: "I may not be beautiful, but at least I'm ______________." I want her to be able to hear the words, "You're beautiful" from a good man in the [very distant] future and know that he is speaking the truth to her. I do not want her so desperate to hear those words from someone, anyone, that she will fall for the first opportunist that comes along.
Ultimately, I want her so grounded in her identity that neither the impossible ideals of our culture nor the shallow praise of people will prevent her from knowing how beautiful she is, inside and out. And this is the other thing that concerns me with so many of these articles that are telling us how to talk to our daughters about their bodies and their beauty: I believe we have lost sight of our true identities. We see clearly enough to know that the beauty ideals showcased in magazines and movies are false and harmful, but rather than search for the truth regarding our own physical beauty, we react against those ideals by shunning the idea of physical beauty altogether. This is not helpful. We can't avoid this topic and believe that our girls will somehow grow up more healthy and balanced than we did. We must search for what is right and true and speak words that give life.
So what is my right and true identity as a woman? What should I be trying to teach my daughter? For this, I must go to the source of all truth and beauty: my Creator. And what does God say about my identity and my beauty? First of all, Genesis 1:27 assures us that we are created in the image of God. This means, among many other things, that I am marked by the beauty of God. The same God who created mountains and lakes and trees and flowers created me! "Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!" (Genesis 1:31) Those words are spoken over me. I am beautiful. In Ephesians 2:10, we learn that we are God's masterpiece, a work of art, a poem. I am beautiful. In Song of Songs, we read of the love between a man and a woman, and we see the pleasure and satisfaction that can come from the enjoyment of physical beauty in the context of romantic love. From this, I learn that my desire to be seen as beautiful is not somehow wrong or shallow, but an important part of who I am created to be. I am beautiful. In Hosea, we read that the love between a man and a woman is symbolic of the love God has for us. Romantic love gives us a glimpse of the strength and passion with which God loves us. Psalm 45:11 says, "The king is enthralled by your beauty; honour him, for he is your Lord." I am beautiful. There are many other passages I could use, but I will end with the story of Leah. In Genesis 29, we find Jacob travelling in search of a wife. He meets and falls in love with Rachel, who is described as having "a beautiful figure and a lovely face." (verse 17) Rachel has an older sister named Leah, who is not considered beautiful. Their father tricks Jacob into marrying Leah as well, and she lives with the knowledge that Jacob loves Rachel more than he loves her. God does a beautiful thing for Leah, though - He makes her part of the lineage of Jesus. It is Leah, not Rachel, who gives birth to Judah, ancestor of Jesus. This speaks to me so profoundly of the way God views us. He does not see us through our culture's distorted lens; He is not limited to a narrow definition of worth and beauty. He sees us as He has created us to be: beautiful and loved. I am beautiful, and I am loved. This truth, that I am loved by God, is the core of my identity. And when I experience the love of God, I am filled with peace and joy, and I know, deep down, that I am beautiful. It is this experience that I want my daughter to have. It is this life-giving truth that I want to speak over her, and live out in front of her. This is why I will not be afraid to tell her she is beautiful.
I believe words are important. In fact, they're so important, let's not let society ruin them for us. Let's take back beauty. Let's dare to own our desire for beauty. Let's even dare to acknowledge our own beauty - not in a shallow way that merely mimics the culture around us, but in a deeply profound way that honours our Creator and brings glory to His great and beautiful name.
