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OAK

June 23, 2018

I recently read something along the lines of, “Imagine if all women woke up one morning and were completely comfortable in their own skin.”  The multi-billion-dollar beauty industry would implode.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I love a bright red lip just as much as the next gal.  In fact, I recently went on a quest to find the perfect shade and I’m happy to report that “Lady Balls” from Sephora earned me several compliments.

Really though, what if we all decided that we were good enough?  What if we placed more value on the quality of person we are and not on our appearance?  What if we didn’t have to constantly adapt to the newest trend or try and stay relevant- how life changing might that be?

When we first moved into our house five years ago, I hated our kitchen.  It’s entirely oak.  It’s a big, spacious area with lovely appliances and gorgeous granite countertops but the cabinets are oak.  And I thought they looked outdated.  I thought the carved curve at the top of my cupboards made them look undesirable. 

But why did I think that?  Why does the stain or color of wood matter?  Why was oak no longer good enough or stylish?  Really, they’re beautifully hand-crafted cabinets.  They’re sturdy and do the job of holding my dishes perfectly.  They’re not worn or hanging loose from their hinges.  They’re just no longer considered modern or trendy to most.  Some designer somewhere decided that they should do things differently, reinvented what is current and created a picture of the new and improved kitchen and declared “OAK IS OUT”.

I study people a lot.  Especially women older than me.  I’m always searching for their secrets.  What they know that I have yet to learn.  I used to think that many older women had given up in dramatic fashion of trying to be the beauty queen they were never meant to be.  Now I realize they haven’t given up, they’ve just learned that it doesn’t matter.  That they’re a magnificent being, owning all of themselves.  If their thighs jiggle a little (or a lot), if their grays have started growing in or if the shirt they’ve sported for a decade still fits- it’s all good.  More so- its fucking great.

I no longer look at my kitchen cabinets and think, “ick”.  In fact, I look at the beautiful wood and the carved-out pattern and think about how they serve my family so well.  My kitchen is where my kiddos and I make cookies and eat spoonsful of dough, where my baby bangs on the lower cabinets with spatulas and where if I drop a dish of marinara, it’s surprisingly easy to clean up.  You see- oak hides things well.  I can wipe off the smudge and move along to the more important stuff.  I hope you can, too.   

 

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