Recently, I’ve been involved in a production of Chicago at my local playhouse. I have to say, this is one of the most fun roles I’ve ever had the opportunity of assuming. It’s quite different from anything I’ve ever done before. I’ve only ever been in family shows. If any of you have seen Chicago, you know that it’s more of an adult show. While my role has been extremely fun, it’s also been a bit challenging.
I’ve found myself pinching. The costumes for Chicago are small. I’m sporting a wonderful LBD (little black dress). It’s a one shoulder dress, pretty short, with lots of ruching. It’s legitimately a really cute dress.Yet I still find myself pinching. For one, I’m not used to things hugging my frame. I like shirts that are just a bit too big and loose norts (nike shorts. I coined my own term after saying “nike shorts” became too tedious). I tend to avoid wearing tight things at all costs. Secondly, it’s a normal day for Annika if I feel self conscious. I feel like I’m being thrown into shark infested waters in my LBD. “Here! Be confident! Black looks good on everyone!” I walk on stage with a moment of hesitation. Momentarily considering the worst that could happened. Everyone could stare at the super pale, tall, blonde girl and think her pudgy.
On that one shoulder that doesn’t have a sleeve, there’s a little bit of fat hanging out. And my arms aren’t in the best shape. I’ve noticed that on some days, I have some stomach showing through the dress. I’m not in my peak shape right now and it’s made plainly obvious by the dress. So I pinch at the fat, like stamping “needs improvement” on parts of my body I don’t like on a particular day. It feels almost sadistic.
And that’s precisely why I’m making the effort to stop. I’m going to stop.
This is not why I was made nor what I’m made for. My purpose in life is not to pinch pieces of fat, size up the parts of myself I don’t like. Even on my worst days, I’ve still been made in the Image of the Creator. I don’t think the Image has anything to do with obsessing over my imperfections. That’s not Light or Truth in my life. That’s the nagging whisper in the back of my head saying that I would be more worthy if my BMI was smaller. Yet that’s not where Beauty comes from. Beauty comes from Him, and He’s given me this earthly vessel. I’m going to work on loving it.
After my moment of hesitation, I hope for the best. I know I have people who love me. I have a Father who loves me.
The worst could totally happen. But the best could, too.