This trip was like a mini-bachelor/ette weekend with my matron of honor and her husband. While it was sad we couldn't have the whole crew there, it was super nice to keep it small. This day in particular was a big travel day. We drove from outside of Philadelphia to Ithaca, while making pit stops at Canteen900 in northern PA for brunch and at Watkins Glen State Park for an afternoon hike.
If you know me, I am not one to love many pictures of me. Whenever you do, it's probably only a handful in a set of 100+ images. The photo is either somewhat candid or posed in a not-so-casual-faux-style-blogger way. I can always pick myself apart. A wonky eyebrow. A weird shadow my clothes are doing. An awkward broken ankle look. That bit of love cushions and thick thighs and oddly shaped calves. Why do I always keep talking during a photo? I know the way I see myself is overly critical, and not at all what others see. Body image has always been something that I am aware of. If questioned about it, or even if the topic arises, I shrug it off casually and turn the conversation around because I don't want to get into that rabbit hole about talking about the issues I have with myself.
Body positivity has been a great topic lately. I love the idea of celebrating every shape, size, and color. I love this conversation that's been happening in society. Learning what is healthy for you doesn't necessarily mean it's healthy for another. That the number on the scale doesn't define you. That beauty norms aren't a blanket statement. That no matter what you look like on the outside, it's your heart and soul that matters most. We're all just bones underneath it all. We're all the same. Let's be honest, after this weekend in Charlottesville, the world needs a little bit more honest raw love out there. Eat the doughnut. Go on that afternoon bike ride. Drink the coffee. Hug your besties. You do you.
Many of my friends keep putting themselves down because they aren't happy with the way they look and feel. And I constantly tell them that they are fearfully and wonderfully made. Because that's Truth. That they are beautiful, inside and out. But how many times do I dish out those reassuring words, but not believe it myself? Almost constantly. I have to remind myself to fully experience these moments. Stop fussing with every single detail. Just exist in it and breathe it in. Because a photograph captures the memory. No one will know (or even care) that you felt like a complete doofus standing the mist of a waterfall. Sometimes you have to accept the moments where you're super tired and your makeup is sweating off and just smile.
ITHACA IS GORGES
It's a saying around these parts.
