The Search for Perfection

My sister is beautiful. I'm not just saying that because she's my sister. Strangers, admittedly mostly boys/men, have come up to her and told her that fact. Of course she's beautiful inside and out. She's kind, gregarious, intelligent, and brave. Those qualities just make her physical beauty shine all the brighter. Not that the physical beauty needs help - she has super model hair even when she wakes up in the morning, an adorable dimple, full lips, luxurious lashes, and knockout figure complete with a better than J-Lo booty. You would think that my sister would be the happiest girl around but here's the rub - she doesn't think she is beautiful.

When she looks in the mirror she sees flaws, real and imagined, and fat. She really feels that she is unattractive and that she needs to lose weight. I've spent countless hours telling her how beautiful she is and trying to convince her that it is the truth. But she sees the scars, the minute blemishes, and a distorted image of fat thighs and wide hips.

The irony is, of course, that I am much bigger than her and I have many more blemishes too. Still I am the one who tries to boost her ego and I try my best not to make it make me feel negative towards myself. I guess I am lucky in that I have accepted my body and moved past the teenage brooding on my lack of perfection.

One of the thoughts that helped me get to this point of acceptance is "Who would I rather be?" Oh yeah, I could say Catherine Zeta Jones but then I would have to be married to crusty, old Michael Douglas and I wouldn't have my own wonderful parents. Mmm, maybe some other supermodel with legs up to my neck but then I would lose my intellect and warm childhood. Basically, I figured it out that I wouldn't want to trade with anyone. Sure, I would like to be the idealize version of myself - tanned, toned, blemish & cellulite free with even bigger boobs (okay, I must admit that I in that area I'm already pretty ideal) and model perfect hair.

My Oma has a saying: "If everyone put their troubles on the table, they would all take back their own." Now, if only my sister would realize in that game, she'd be the first one off the table.