Blemish

Sunday morning found me once again in front of my mirror using every ounce of cover up I could on those irritating blemishes sprinkled around my face. I wondered if the curse of fair English skin would continually combat any hope I have of a beautiful porcelain complexion. As I was adding layer upon layer in a struggle that seemed totally futile my 8 year old niece walked into my bathroom and asked a lingering, "Whatchadoin'?" I explained about the problem that seemed to be blight covering my face and how it must be eradicated! She shook her head and replied, "Oh I know all about that!" My brows furrowed. "Ya!" she continued, "Just look at this!" Her delicate little finger pointed to a cold sore on her lip. "Oh," I replied in a patronizing manor "that will go away in a few days." As I poked here and there along my cheeks and jaw I said, "These are a bit more insistent than that." Back I went to my mudding. Then she narrowed her gaze and speaking just a little louder said, "Ok! Well look at this, and this, and how about this spot!!" I put my cotton pad down and watched as she moved that same delicate finger along alabaster skin to insignificant, slightly pink spots barely gracing her face. It struck me at that moment how truly beautiful she is. I know that I already have a prejudice, however I know she is indeed a very beautiful young lady.

Since then I have been thinking about the ways we teach our girls about beauty. At eight years old she is already comparing and looking for blemishes that must be hidden and removed. What am I saying when I use pounds of cover-up for skin that will from time to time show something that is a little less than runway worthy?