This was a question that was asked of me recently. When this person asked... I froze a little. After just having a baby 3 months ago, gaining a ton of weight, and not really having time to get "done up" I hadn't really felt pretty lately. BUT this statement really got me thinking. What does "the most pretty" mean to me?
For the past decade, I always tried so hard to look good for other people or to impress other people. Always putting on a full face of make-up. Always putting on my "best clothes." I was looking for the validation of others to tell me that I was pretty, or that I looked nice, or that they noticed my effort.
Over the past several months my definition of this statement has changed quite a bit. I've grown and given birth to a beautiful baby boy, so of course my body will never be the same again. I'm okay with that. Having a baby means whatever semblance of self-care time we had before the baby is gone because we now care for a baby 24/7. I can't tell you the last time I took longer than a 4 minute shower (while my husband is away). I can't tell you the last time I put on a full face of make-up or curled my hair. I haven't had my hair done in over 4 months because who has time? (and because the corona-quarantine closed all of the hair salons...) Oh, and I'm covered in spit up all day. We can't forget that part.
So now I think... When do I feel the most pretty? I feel the most pretty with very minimal or no make up on. I feel the most pretty in vibrant clothes, but they aren't fancy. Mostly leggings and colorful tank tops (because I loathe sleeves). Oh, It has to be spit up friendly, because lets be real... I am covered in spit up most of the day and always wear at least 2 different shirts.
Most importantly, I feel the most pretty when I see that I am happy. Happiness looks good on us. When I see pictures of me interacting and caring for my son, that is where I feel "the most pretty" because he (nor I) care what I am wearing, or if I have makeup or nice clothes on. He just loves seeing me. He loves snuggling with me. Not my make-up. Not my clothes. Me.