For as long as I can remember, I defined myself by my appearance. If I had a “fat” day, then I felt down, depressed and angry about myself and the world around me. If I had a “cute” day, then I felt good about myself and everything seemed to fall into place. In my world, Fat = bad and Cute = good. Over and over again, I let each of those words define me. I allowed my outward appearance to consume me.

When I didn’t wear makeup or have my hair done up all cute, I felt unkempt and naked. Because every aspect of my life hung on my appearance.

Lightening struck me this year (well… figuratively speaking). I realized that for the last (almost) 30 years, I had been letting the wrong notions and attitudes guide me. I defined my self-worth not on my intelligence, wit, or compassion but rather by my dress size — the number on the scale — my “male attention” factor. Now I get it. I now realize that I was so misguided back then.

You see– I didn’t love myself. Not even a little. I loved the person that I aspired to be but I did not love the person I already was. Because my intelligence, wit and compassion was buried under my excess weight. Every sentence in my mind seemed to start with … “When I lose this weight I am finally going to…”. In reality, I should have been trying to do those things regardless of how much I weighed.

I realized this past year, that if I died tomorrow, I would die with tons of regrets. I held myself back because of my appearance. I didn’t have enough faith in myself. I always felt that people wouldn’t take the time to get past the exterior so why show them the interior? But all of this was preconceived. I should have pushed past it.

I digress. Beating myself up about things that happened yesterday… or rather… things that should have happened yesterday is completely moot. What matters is today. Maybe it is because I am starting to feel the power in turning 30, maybe I am strapping the “woman” tag into my self-definition or the fact that I have three children and a husband (and I pay my taxes too darn it), but I am casting the cloak of unworthiness aside. I am allowing myself to be the person I always was inside regardless of whether or not my body is “there yet”. Everyday I realize that I *am* beautiful and that I am becoming healthier and strong-minded.

In my world now…outward appearance is merely in the seat of the court jester. Content of character is king.