Still Working on This

If it wasn't for the fact that the artist, my husband, and my friend Beth were there, I would have never posed for the caricature. But I was trying to get into the spirit of the party, and I wanted to join my husband in an activity of his choice (read last two posts for more details), and so I sat. I sat, and squirmed, and made faces.

"What should I look at? Should I look at you? Should I smile? Not smile? Should I stop moving?"

The artist chuckled good-naturedly. "Just relax," he said, and added a few strokes to the paper.

Our hostess (a.k.a. The Birthday Girl) came to peek over the easel. "Oh, that's good! I like that!"

I squirmed some more, then tried to relax by thinking about the delicious food waiting for me at the buffet. But I couldn't stop making faces... my eyes twitched, my nose itched, my stomach growled... but the torture lasted only several minutes. With a sure hand, the artist added a few more details, then presented to us the final portrait: my husband and I, with enlarged heads, playing a mini guitar and keyboard on a lit walkway. 

I was tickled... there I was, drawn in Sharpie, with my freckles, curly hair, and friendly grin. I actually wouldn't mind having that on my wall.

"That looks just like you, Rita!"

Hmm, maybe I'm not so tickled... is my chin really that pointy? Is my nose that big? Are my freckles really that prominent? I should have tied up my hair... it looks huge!

I tried to shake these thoughts off, but they followed me around the party like a gaggle of hungry geese. Every now and then, I walked over to the artist's corner of the room to watch him draw other guests. He had an excellent eye for capturing facial qualities, but I couldn't help but notice that all the other women's portraits looked more beautiful than mine. Then I saw a woman walk by with her 'caricature self' playing a guitar, and another with her 'caricature self' holding a microphone. What I had felt was so unique thirty minutes ago suddenly felt mediocre and unoriginal.

Then I wanted to scream! Not because the artist did some great injustice when he drew me, or because I regret posing in the first place, but because I thought I had already conquered this mountain! This mountain of comparing myself to other women, of wanting to fit a certain 'look', of defining beauty as having porcelain skin, smooth hair, and dainty features, and defining success as having money, talent, and a title, was completely blocking my view of everything but myself. And my self-consciousness was keeping me from enjoying the party or caring for the people around me, which I knew is not how God intends for me to live my life.

So I'm reminding myself (again) that beauty is more than what I see on a piece of paper, and that success is much more than party small-talk and first impressions. And I'm revisiting God's dictionary, to fill my mind and heart with His definitions. Then up the mountain I go!