So yesterday in church I got to find out more about the non-food portion of our Relief Society meeting last Thursday. We got this booklet called “Celebrate You!” Subtitle: “Recapturing Beauty.” Sub-subtitle: “I am Beautiful.” (Suggested sub-sub-subtitle: “No Matter What They Say.”) It is a “10-day challenge.” Well, they said they were going to “redefine beauty,” and I admit I was initially skeptical that they could do so in one evening, but seeing how it’s a ten-day program, I reckon they might have a chance after all.
It’s a very nice booklet of daily challenges; scattered throughout are pictures of women in our ward. Not me, though. First problem: If I’m so beautiful, why is there no picture of ME in this booklet? How can I celebrate ME if this booklet excludes ME right off the bat? Harumph!
The ladies thought we should all do the ten-day challenge together and culminate our respective celebrations of self with a righteous Mother’s Day Sunday lesson. Because there are ten business days between now and Mother’s Day, which means that we won’t have to work on our self-esteem issues over the weekends. So that’s nice.
My husband saw the booklet this morning and asked me if I was going to do the ten-day challenge. I said I didn’t know, and did he think I should or something? What was he trying to say? That I’m not beautiful??? (You know I didn’t really say that, don’t you, gentle readers? I’m just going with the low self-esteem theme here.) He said he didn’t care if I did it or not; he just wanted to know whether or not to recycle the booklet. A LIKELY STORY. (In case you couldn’t tell, I was being sarcastic.) Seeing how there was a ream’s worth of potentially-recyclable materials on the coffee table, and he just happened to wonder whether or not he should recycle the one booklet with the potential to celebrate ME.
Now I’m wondering if it was some kind of perverse dare on his part. I think he just wants to make fun of me. Note to husband: Making fun of ME=/=Celebrating ME. So now I’m debating whether or not to perversely respond to his perverse dare. Generally, I don’t like to do these sorts of things because they’re cheesy and despite my best efforts to suppress this aspect of my personality, deep inside I still think I’m too cool to do cheesy things. I know, it doesn’t make any sense. Rationally, I know that I’m not cool at all. Which makes me think that maybe I’m just holding on to my self-esteem issues because they’ve become so fundamental to my personality that I’m afraid that if I worked out my self-esteem issues, I would have no self left. Do you think this is possible, gentle readers? Is it possible that despite my mockery of Marianne Williamson’s celebrated wisdom, I really do fear my own greatness? Do I owe it to myself to prove Marianne Williamson wrong by actually embarking on this 10-day discovery of my own greatness? Do you think I can?
The Challenge: Get Started
“Today, start your journal for the challenge. Write for at least ten minutes and express gratitude for all the things your body allows you to do. Refrain from weighing yourself today. In fact, refrain from weighing yourself during the 10 days of the challenge.”
Well, thanks a lot. I wasn’t even thinking about my weight until you brought it up, Ten-Day Challenge. Actually, I just weighed myself last night. I’m officially no longer retaining water this month, so I’m sure I can go for ten days without weighing myself. Now I just have to spend ten minutes being grateful for everything my body allows me to do. Ten minutes seems like a long time. Maybe I can just be grateful for ten things.
Ten Things I Am Grateful My Body Allows Me To Do
I’m just messing with you. I’m sorry, it’s just the whole weighing thing. Now that it’s forbidden, I’m going to be all obsessed with it. I hereby give myself permission to weigh myself every day for the next ten days, just to reassure myself that I don’t care how much I weigh. Because I actually don’t. Because weight is not my problem. If weight were my problem, I would worry about it, believe me. But I’m actually in a reasonably good place, weight-wise. It’s the rest of me that needs work. Which reminds me, my husband reiterated the other day that he would pay for my boob job. I have half a mind to go get one, just to teach him that if you mess with your wife’s head, eventually you do get the bill.
Interestingly enough, there is nothing in this ten-day challenge booklet about not getting a boob job. So technically it must not interfere with the celebration of ME.
There’s a lot of crap to do today. You know, the house went to hell within 24 hours of the housekeepers leaving on Wednesday, and on Saturday I cleaned up for some pre-Easter guests, and then the house went to hell again. And it’s still there! I should also buy some groceries because I will probably have to cook dinner this week. Several times! And the laundry’s piling up again. Bleeeaaahhhhhhhhh. But I’m so glad my body allows me to clean the house and go grocery shopping and do the laundry because if it didn’t, I’d have nothing to look forward to. Meditate on that for ten minutes, suckahs!