I posted on Instagram yesterday something that’s going on in my heart. It seemed to strike a chord with my ladies over there so I thought I would share it here, too.
You’re thing might not be fair skin, but whatever it is, be encouraged today. And may we collectively be kinder to ourselves.
When I was pregnant with my babies I wished more than anything for them to get their daddy’s skin, not mine.
At some point in my growing up, I realized my skin was different. Everyone else could lay out and get tan; I only grew pinker with more freckles.
I’ve always known that it’s just how it works when you have red hair – the skin that goes with it is pale. But somewhere along the line I grabbed hold of the belief that my pale skin was bad. That it was ugly and something to fix.
Cover it up. Use self-tanner. Endure the heat to try to get just a little bit of color. And be sure to make the first pale skin joke while in the midst of perfectly golden-skinned friends just to try to hide the insecurity.
I didn’t honestly realize the fullness of this internal narrative until last week. And it makes me sad that all these years, I’ve had this quiet voice inside shaming me for having pale skin.
I’m on a hard, but beautifully hopefully journey of growing deeper into my identity in Christ, and these little self-defeating stories I’ve told myself for years are being rooted out.
So, pale skin, I might not love you quite yet, but I’m not going to be so mean to you anymore.
“So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free” John 8:36