what my 23y self said to my 16y self at the checkout counter

So, I chanced upon this piece when I was doing some thinking/research about the topic of beauty for my next post. 

It was written 3 years ago as a letter to my self 10 years ago. So in a way, it is a flashback to myself at two different points in my life. 

I’ve gotten a few comments in the past while about how my writing style has evolved over the years. And you’ll probably see it in this piece. 

This was written during the time that I was enamoured with Ann Voskamp’s writing (author of ‘One Thousand Gifts’ and ‘The Broken Way’). She was actually one of the reasons I started writing more publicly and when I started my writing, it sounded a lot like her voice, until I got more a voice of my own. 

So, here it is – unedited (although I’m so tempted to, but sigh I figured you guys would appreciate the rawness). 

hey girl,

I see you at that checkout counter. Mom’s paying for groceries but you’re flipping through “Seventeen” trying hard to remember the “7 no-fail exercises to get flat abs”.

You’re telling yourself you will lose 10 pounds if only you could be regular about doing these 7 exercises.

That once you were skinny like that covergirl, people would start to notice you.

You could probably be just like the girls who flock around the lockers and dominate the hallway with their perfectly curled blonde hair in their perfectly messy buns, and Ugg boots tucked into their Abercrombie sweatpants.

Or like the cheerleaders with the confident smiles as they spin fouette turns.

I wish I could have told you then, as you mindlessly thumbed through the glossy pages, that those pages lie.

I would have whispered truth: that it’s an endless cycle of women wanting to be like another. And that really, it’s called coveting.

It’s called mocking the work of the Creator – your Creator.

I know you don’t mean any harm.

After all, isn’t that what everyone at your high school does anyway, while congregated around cafeteria tables. You compare prom dresses and boyfriends.

But what if I told you, girl, that you were meant for so much more.

What if I told you that instead of the incessant chase for social capital, you were meant to befriend the lonely, reach out to the oppressed.

What if I told you that the real beautiful women do the hard and holy thing – they pursue what really matters.

What if I told you there is One who is after your attention – and He is wildly in love with you.

What if I told you that in the minutes that you spent inspecting yourself in the mirror this morning, He was softly beckoning you to come away – away from the noise of the world and the opinions of those who don’t see your value anyways.

What if I told you that true beauty is when you do all things with great love.

As Mother Teresa said, “It is not the magnitude of our actions, but the amount of love that is put into them that matters.”

Repeat that to yourself quiet as you brush your hair slow in the morning.

I know it will only happen years from now – you will be 18 when you first pick up the book “Authentic Beauty”, 19 when you meet Faith and discover the freedom in not caring how people see you, 20 when you attend Urbana and feel your heart burn for something more, 21 when you first visit HTH and fall in love with those the world has thrown away, 22 when you finally decide to move to China to learn to love.

And so, how I wish I could have told you then at that checkout counter.

You continue to flip until Mom calls you to help her with the groceries. You hastily put the magazine back in its place, hoping no one saw.

I can only pray that when you realize, you will be able to share boldly about the countless times you hid behind magazines at the checkout counter, so that other girls can be free.

Tell them that is never too late to do a reset no matter how deep you have gone, never too late to slow to breathe and remember why we live, never too late to learn to cultivate humility as what you desire most or to be fully satisfied in being single and sent. 

This is my hope for you, that one day you will pass on the beautiful words of Ann Voskamp to your daughter – and your daughter’s daughters:

For a beautiful countenance — count blessings.

For beautiful lips — only speak words that make souls stronger.

To carry yourself with poise — carry each other’s burden.

For the most beautiful shape — simply live with one hand receiving all as gift, and other hand giving away the gifts.

So, go ahead, Girl, run your hands wild through your hair and smile unashamed and be at peace in the fullness of you and pour your beauty out like an alabaster perfume, for

Beauty doesn’t live in your skin

Beauty lives in the lining of your heart.