I love movies. And like all movie lovers around the world I memorise film scripts line-by-line. So, when I first saw Bridget Jones’ Diary in the mid-90s, I obviously never forgot what Mark Darcy said to Bridget at the party, just after she waffled on about all the reasons why he couldn’t like her, he quite simply said – ‘No, I like you very much. Just as you are.’ Now this has really stuck with me, and between you and I, I find it upsetting that this quote shocked people, a man couldn’t like you just as you are, no sirrreee – surely you needed to be less fat, have larger lips, or bigger boobs – but as you are? That’s just total rubbish! But what if it wasn’t rubbish, what if we do like ourselves just as we are? Here’s a few reasons why I do…
I don’t have time for all the fakery.
In my late teens and early twenties I spent many an evening preening myself so I could look completely different on a night out. I would add clip-in hair extensions, fake eyelashes, stick on nails and super high heels I could barely walk in just so I could appear better than I already was. This took around 2-3 hours to all come together. I remember one evening I went back to someone’s uni halls (just to sleep) and removed all my fakery - to see the shock on his face when he realised I wasn’t quite what he’d signed up for, was a real picture. As I did the walk of shame a few hours later, I was half the woman I was the previous evening, physically and mentally. Fast forward to my early thirties and you’re lucky if you get to see me with a full face of make-up on a night out. What’s changed? Well firstly, I got older and to be honest as soon as I hit 30, I actually just stopped caring what other people think. Don’t get me wrong I still like to make an effort every now and again, but that whole get up isn’t really me and I would rather spend my time on something of more value – plus, looking like someone completely different doesn’t really appeal to me quite frankly.
I have a sexy personality.
I have been told I have a magic personality, now I’m not sure if people just tell me this as a polite way to say I’m f***ing ugly, or they actually mean it, but I’ll take it anyway. One evening when I was out-and-about with my very attractive friends (I was the DUFF) I ended up chatting to a cool guy by the bar, I can’t remember the ins and outs of our deep and meaningful but before I walked away to join my friends he said this: ‘wow, you’ve got a really sexy personality’, and with a smile and a great compliment in my back pocket, I walked away genuinely happy. Anyone can refine themselves with beauty products and the like, but having good chat is hard to fake…
I’d be lying if I said being married doesn’t help with my confidence. I mean someone actually vowed in front of everyone, to love me in sickness and in health and in fatness and old age – what more could I ask for? Don’t get it twisted, just because I’m a married woman doesn’t make me complacent with my self-development, I just have a bit more support.
I’m a good friend.
Being a loyal Taurean makes me a good friend. Fact. I care about my friend’s feelings, I like to go out of my way to try to make them happy (even if it’s at my own inconvenience), I try to lift them up when they’re down and I will happily smother them with heaps of my un-wanted clothes. To me, spending time on the people you like is a lot more worthwhile than spending hours agonising over a teeny bit of cellulite no one can even see.
I don’t care.
I wouldn’t go so far to say I love myself, but I am content with the way I look and the way I have turned out. It’s quite taboo for us as a nation to admit we are happy, we are part of the self-improvement generation, always wanting to better ourselves, physically, mentally and professionally – but what if we are just happy as we are? Is that a bad thing? I don’t think so.