I wrote the following sometime between February 2000 and March 2001 when I was a less mature Christian. I had one of those jobs you read about in books or see on TV, exc
ept I was the quirky sidekick, not the star. My role: advertising coordinator. The publication: Harper’s Magazine. The scene: SoHo, NYC, pre-9/11. I never finished the piece because a coworker or a boss or an intern probably interrupted me. How dare someone disturb my unproductive, self-indulgent musings when I’m at work!
After you read, let me know: Do you identify with any of it?
To be gorgeous
With long, luxurious, shiny, thick hair
Perfectly clear, tanned, toned, soft skin
A button nose
Full, bee-stung lips
Big, sparkling, light eyes
Thin, sleek arms
A taut, flat tummy
A tiny waist
A firm, little tush
Long, slender legs
And also to be without a huge ego…
If the Lord had made me a gorgeous creature,
would I also have been a godless monster?
Would I have had to pay a price for such a gift?
If something tragic were to happen in my life,
would I then have earned the right to beauty?
Or is beauty some consolation prize?
Please help me stop wanting what I can’t and shouldn’t have. Or please give it to me, along with the ability to handle it. I know I’ve failed each time You granted me freedom from fat and kissed my face to make me shine like a light. I abused what You gave me. And You took it away.
But so many beautiful women misuse and abuse their beauty. Are they not Yours? Do any of them care that women like me feel terrible about themselves each time I look at their pretty photos? I know they say those pictures are retouched and that the women’s breasts and noses are surgically enhanced, but I don’t feel any better knowing that I’m all real—because I also look real! I WANT TO LOOK LIKE THE FANTASY! I WANT TO BE MY FANTASY’S FANTASY! I know it’s possible for others. Look at…