My Mini Me

When I was about 8 years old, I decided I was ugly. My face was the wrong shape, I was too skinny, and I looked hideous. I hung on to that belief for a very long time.

In my teens while my friends had Farrah Fawcett hair, I had Rod Steward hair even though I bought Farrah’s shampoo and conditioner. My friends had designer jeans and I had Sears Toughskins. My friends had pretty dresses and I had handmade, twice handed down white with blue hearts jumpsuits. Double knit, of course.

In my twenties, I wore hats and baggy clothes to cover my insecurities. While my friends had blossomed into beautiful, curvy young ladies I was basically Gumby. Flat as a pancake. Straight as a board.

In my thirties I lightened up a bit and felt pretty good about how I looked. This was short-lived.

In my late thirties and early forties, I didn’t care how I looked.  I had two little kids and smelled like vomit or diarrhea most of the time. My looks were not a priority.

I had a long history of hating on myself.

I now have a daughter who is 12 and is my twin. Side by side our pictures at the same age are identical.  She is beautiful.  I could stare at her forever. Yet at her age I thought for sure I was the ugliest kid around. I hated everything about how I looked.

Seeing how beautiful she is, how could I ever have thought so harshly about myself?

And it doesn’t just stop at looks.  She is creative, witty and sarcastic. Just like me. She is crafty and a picky eater. Just like me. She is messy and disorganized. Like her Aunt Tammy was. But mostly she is just like me. Or I am just like her. And that is beautiful to see.

I still have bad days. I’m getting wrinkles. Scratch that, I have well established wrinkles. Certain body parts have drifted South. But when I look in Jennifer’s face, I absolutely love everything about her and me, because she is me. My mini me.

If you need any proof of just how awesome you are, look around at your kids and family. What wonderful qualities did you pass on to the next generation. In what ways are you alike? It’s a beautiful thing.

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