I've been doing an awful lot of mirror gazing in the past week or so. Not because I have suddenly become vain or I just can't help but look at myself, but because I can't get over the fact that I am the young lady in the mirror.
But, Emily, haven't you seen yourself in mirrors and pictures your entire life?
Well, yes, I have. But there have been quite a few changes that have been apparently overlooked. For one, I got my hair dyed, and I got it dyed dark. Not black, but very dark brown. It is a color wash, which means it is not completely permanent, but with how dark the dye was, and how light my hair was, it will probably stain it a little. So that was an intentional change, even though I was a little apprehensive about it at first. But with all the complements I have been getting about it, I think I'll keep it this color.
It also helped that when I got it colored, I got that really annoying piece of longish hair cut down to fix the angled side of my hair. For those of you who haven't seen me in the past year, I have an asymmetrical cut, where the back is stacked, and the right side is longer than the left side, and it angles down until the front. So I got my hair trimmed as well, which helped it frame my face more, which in turn helped me see how much my face has changed.
One thing I noticed, thanks to my new hair color more than anything, was how pale I really am. Now, I have always been pale, always. I inherited my skin color from my mother for sure. When I was younger, I didn't like being pale. I wanted to be tan like all my friends when they came back from summer break. As I got older, I came to terms that in order for me to gain some color, I actually had to go outside for an extended period of time. Now while I do enjoy going to the beach or sitting in the yard reading, I can't just sit there, I have to be doing something. Which makes it hard for me to tan. Also, I don't tan; I burn. So, eventually I just gave up trying to be dark. More recently, I came to embrace my pale skin. I like it. I think pale skin is beautiful, not just on me, but on other people as well. (I don't say that to be some white elitist Nazi, it's just a personal preference.Other races and colors are beautiful as well, but I think everyone should embrace their true color and stop trying to make themselves darker or lighter or oranger than they are.) So all in all, I like my skin, I like that I am extremely pale. It is the color that I am and anything else looks weird on me.
But after getting my hair colored. I looked really pale. You know how it is, when you put something dark against something light, the lighter thing looks lighter, and the darker thing looks darker. That's kind of what happened when I looked in the mirror the day after. I looked extremely pale. And I liked it.
Then, on Tuesday (12/18), I had my Senior pictures done. I know I'm talking about physical aspects of me in this post, but I just have to say, getting my pictures done was one of the most fun things ever. So, Tuesday was a busy day all in all, starting at nine in the morning. I went with my mom to get her hair done, and our hairdresser went ahead and styled my hair (for Free!). I honestly still do not understand how she managed to get my really short, really straight hair to curl, but she did. It turned out amazing, really. So after our hair, we went to lunch, then to set up the places in my church where I wanted my pictures done. Then, it was time for pictures. I had four different outfits, because it was a special day, and I wanted to be a high maintenance diva. Honestly, all of the pictures are going to turn out beautiful, but my favorite outfit was this vintage red lace dress, that was just absolutely stunning. While I was changing into this outfit, my mom was helping get stuff pinned right and put on jewelry and stuff. Then I looked in the mirror. I honestly did not recognize myself. At all. I think, in all retrospect, that was the first time I looked in the mirror and not only felt beautiful, but I said to myself "I am beautiful."
Now you're probably wondering, Emily, really now? Are you one of those shallow, insecure teenagers who doesn't think she's beautiful? But hear me out. I have known for most of my life, that I am beautiful because God made me, He gave me a purpose, and I have been redeemed by the blood of the Prince of Peace. I know I' beautiful, but knowing and feeling are two very different things. You can know that you're going to Heaven because you accepted Gods' gift of salvation, but that doesn't mean you feel like you should go to Heaven. And it's the same kind of thing here. I knew that I am beautiful, but that doesn't mean I felt that I was beautiful.
Let me rephrase that... I knew I was beautiful, I felt I was beautiful, but when I looked in the mirror, I didn't believe that I was beautiful. Why? I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with the fact that nobody ever told me that I was beautiful until last year, when my dad told me for the first time.(The sad thing isn't that it took sixteen years for him to say it, it was that it took me having feelings for a guy, and he have those same feelings for me, too.) But that moment, in the bathroom of an old house turned museum, turned my perspective around. I am beautiful, and as long as I know that, nobody's opinion matters. I honestly almost started crying, because that was what my mom likes to call and emotional breakthrough.
Also, standing in front of that mirror, with my mom helping me, made me realize, moments like those are far and few between. The only other time I will have a moment like that, between me and my mom, is probably going to be on my wedding day, whenever that is. Those sacred moments, where the air is filled with nervous tension, and it's quiet except for nervous chattering, where subconscious reflection takes place, are the moments when your life change.
My life changed Tuesday, maybe not in the way most people's lives are changed, but I saw an adult in that mirror. I didn't see a teenager, or a student. I saw a young lady, the princess, the daughter of the Almighty King, chosen to take on the world for her Father's Kingdom...A young lady not held down by worldly conventional standards, by her own desires and longings, but who is led along by her Father's Spirit, who leads with a steady hand and a clear mind, and the knowledge of the King's Will. A young lady willing to put aside her own insecure thoughts and second guessings, and follow her Father's directions.
Growing as He helps me,
Emily E. Meadows
I am not the same girl I was before,
nor will I ever be.
But there along the distant horizon,
I know somebody waits for me.
I know he's watching me right now,
waiting for me to come back home,
He waits as long as God allows,
He knows I won't be alone.
He knows the Man that walks by him,
Is the same one who walks with me.
And though I'll travel on a whim,
I know he steadily waits for me.
~ Emily E. Meadows, 12/21/12
But, Emily, haven't you seen yourself in mirrors and pictures your entire life?
Well, yes, I have. But there have been quite a few changes that have been apparently overlooked. For one, I got my hair dyed, and I got it dyed dark. Not black, but very dark brown. It is a color wash, which means it is not completely permanent, but with how dark the dye was, and how light my hair was, it will probably stain it a little. So that was an intentional change, even though I was a little apprehensive about it at first. But with all the complements I have been getting about it, I think I'll keep it this color.
It also helped that when I got it colored, I got that really annoying piece of longish hair cut down to fix the angled side of my hair. For those of you who haven't seen me in the past year, I have an asymmetrical cut, where the back is stacked, and the right side is longer than the left side, and it angles down until the front. So I got my hair trimmed as well, which helped it frame my face more, which in turn helped me see how much my face has changed.
One thing I noticed, thanks to my new hair color more than anything, was how pale I really am. Now, I have always been pale, always. I inherited my skin color from my mother for sure. When I was younger, I didn't like being pale. I wanted to be tan like all my friends when they came back from summer break. As I got older, I came to terms that in order for me to gain some color, I actually had to go outside for an extended period of time. Now while I do enjoy going to the beach or sitting in the yard reading, I can't just sit there, I have to be doing something. Which makes it hard for me to tan. Also, I don't tan; I burn. So, eventually I just gave up trying to be dark. More recently, I came to embrace my pale skin. I like it. I think pale skin is beautiful, not just on me, but on other people as well. (I don't say that to be some white elitist Nazi, it's just a personal preference.Other races and colors are beautiful as well, but I think everyone should embrace their true color and stop trying to make themselves darker or lighter or oranger than they are.) So all in all, I like my skin, I like that I am extremely pale. It is the color that I am and anything else looks weird on me.
But after getting my hair colored. I looked really pale. You know how it is, when you put something dark against something light, the lighter thing looks lighter, and the darker thing looks darker. That's kind of what happened when I looked in the mirror the day after. I looked extremely pale. And I liked it.
Then, on Tuesday (12/18), I had my Senior pictures done. I know I'm talking about physical aspects of me in this post, but I just have to say, getting my pictures done was one of the most fun things ever. So, Tuesday was a busy day all in all, starting at nine in the morning. I went with my mom to get her hair done, and our hairdresser went ahead and styled my hair (for Free!). I honestly still do not understand how she managed to get my really short, really straight hair to curl, but she did. It turned out amazing, really. So after our hair, we went to lunch, then to set up the places in my church where I wanted my pictures done. Then, it was time for pictures. I had four different outfits, because it was a special day, and I wanted to be a high maintenance diva. Honestly, all of the pictures are going to turn out beautiful, but my favorite outfit was this vintage red lace dress, that was just absolutely stunning. While I was changing into this outfit, my mom was helping get stuff pinned right and put on jewelry and stuff. Then I looked in the mirror. I honestly did not recognize myself. At all. I think, in all retrospect, that was the first time I looked in the mirror and not only felt beautiful, but I said to myself "I am beautiful."
Now you're probably wondering, Emily, really now? Are you one of those shallow, insecure teenagers who doesn't think she's beautiful? But hear me out. I have known for most of my life, that I am beautiful because God made me, He gave me a purpose, and I have been redeemed by the blood of the Prince of Peace. I know I' beautiful, but knowing and feeling are two very different things. You can know that you're going to Heaven because you accepted Gods' gift of salvation, but that doesn't mean you feel like you should go to Heaven. And it's the same kind of thing here. I knew that I am beautiful, but that doesn't mean I felt that I was beautiful.
Let me rephrase that... I knew I was beautiful, I felt I was beautiful, but when I looked in the mirror, I didn't believe that I was beautiful. Why? I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with the fact that nobody ever told me that I was beautiful until last year, when my dad told me for the first time.(The sad thing isn't that it took sixteen years for him to say it, it was that it took me having feelings for a guy, and he have those same feelings for me, too.) But that moment, in the bathroom of an old house turned museum, turned my perspective around. I am beautiful, and as long as I know that, nobody's opinion matters. I honestly almost started crying, because that was what my mom likes to call and emotional breakthrough.
Also, standing in front of that mirror, with my mom helping me, made me realize, moments like those are far and few between. The only other time I will have a moment like that, between me and my mom, is probably going to be on my wedding day, whenever that is. Those sacred moments, where the air is filled with nervous tension, and it's quiet except for nervous chattering, where subconscious reflection takes place, are the moments when your life change.
My life changed Tuesday, maybe not in the way most people's lives are changed, but I saw an adult in that mirror. I didn't see a teenager, or a student. I saw a young lady, the princess, the daughter of the Almighty King, chosen to take on the world for her Father's Kingdom...A young lady not held down by worldly conventional standards, by her own desires and longings, but who is led along by her Father's Spirit, who leads with a steady hand and a clear mind, and the knowledge of the King's Will. A young lady willing to put aside her own insecure thoughts and second guessings, and follow her Father's directions.
Growing as He helps me,
Emily E. Meadows
I am not the same girl I was before,
nor will I ever be.
But there along the distant horizon,
I know somebody waits for me.
I know he's watching me right now,
waiting for me to come back home,
He waits as long as God allows,
He knows I won't be alone.
He knows the Man that walks by him,
Is the same one who walks with me.
And though I'll travel on a whim,
I know he steadily waits for me.
~ Emily E. Meadows, 12/21/12
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