What Makes Me Beautiful - By Emily Heiser

This post is from a "guest blogger," my very beautiful daughter, Emily.

 

 

What Makes Me Beautiful

By Emily Heiser

At 24 years old, I’ve been exposed to many different ideas of what beauty is, what it means, and why it’s important.  In my quest for beauty, I’ve tried lots of diets, every type of fashion, and have been every shade of blonde and brunette a person can be.  I continue to be dissatisfied with my hips, my thighs are slightly thicker than I’d like them to be, and no matter how many sit-ups I do my stomach still has a little “pouch” that just won’t disappear.  However, I had one part of me that I loved; my eyes.  I always received compliments on them and they were always the one thing I felt comfortable “flaunting.”  In 2008, I was in a car accident that could have left me blind.  Instead, it left me with a scar on my right eye and eyelid. The scars are the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I look at before I go to bed at night.  I’ve struggled the past several years knowing that the one part of me that I believed was perfect is damaged, forever.  I try to be an advocate for positive body image and yet, I have never quite reconciled my own positive body image with what I see in the mirror. During my most recent confrontation with what I saw in the mirror, it occurred to me that I spend a considerable amount of time focusing on all the parts of me that are ugly but very little on what is beautiful about me. So, I got to thinking. What makes me beautiful?

 

I decided to begin my journey to self-acceptance by thinking about the times that I did feel beautiful.  It didn’t include a pair of heels, my favorite jeans, or even a form fitting dress.  None of those really make me feel beautiful as my insecurities inevitably surface the minute I step out the door.  I went horseback riding yesterday, as I do every Wednesday, as I’ve done since I was 9 years old, and as I was showering afterwards it struck me almost like lightening.  I feel most beautiful when I’m horseback riding.  It doesn’t really make sense does it?  I don’t have makeup on, I’ve got helmet hair that is wet from sweat, chances are I have horse saliva on my shirt because Samson was convinced I was withholding delicious carrots from him, and there is mud and horse poop stuck to the bottom of my shoes. Not your typical beauty standards.  But when I’m riding I feel beautiful, even perfect.  I feel beautiful because I feel happy.  A horse, whether it’s the very first horse I ever rode, a small paint named M&M at L&G stables in New Orleans, or my horse in high school named Bella, or a horse at John Shaw Equestrian Center in Urmston, Manchester.  Not one of those horses has ever cared what I look like.  M&M didn’t care that I had braces and an awkward haircut; Bella didn’t care if my hands weren’t freshly manicured; and Samson is not bothered that I ate that extra slice of pizza.  Similarly, I didn’t care that M&M was barely 14 hands high; he had the heart of a racehorse.  Bella was a bit clumsy over jumps, but she was a best friend who loved me unconditionally during trying times my high school years; and Samson is not always the gentleman he has a reputation for being, but he makes it his duty to make sure I have a safe ride.  These imperfections are what make these horses absolutely beautiful.

It’s funny what animals can teach you about yourself.  These horses have shown me that it is not about what I don’t have but what I do have; my so-called “imperfections” are actually what make me beautiful.  My hips that I think are too big are just the right size for carrying a saddle.  Even though my thighs are thick, they are perfect for jumping horses over fences.  My nails aren’t always freshly manicured, but are on hands perfect for feeding a fresh apple to a horse after a long ride.

 
My journey is to self-acceptance is just beginning; I have a long way to go and it won’t always be easy.  But, I am finally realizing my so-called flaws are what make me who I am; my flaws are my story, my unique and beautiful story.

Just sayin'.

Laurie