I have a name for those girls who always look perfect. You know the kind, perfect hair, perfect make-up, perfect nails, perfect clothes. Perfect houses and perfect families; perfect jobs and perfect friends. The kind of woman who gets approximately seven million likes every time they put a new picture on facebook!
I call them shiny girls, because everything about them somehow seems to glisten. And a little bit of me hates them, because I know I’m not one of them.
I’ll never be able to control my hair and whenever I try and put on eyeliner it ends up looking wonky! My home will never be a show home, I swear that mess just makes itself!
Somehow I feel as if I’ve failed because I can’t seem to reach their levels of perfection. The perfection that other women seem to attain so easily.
Deep down I know that all of this doesn’t matter. I know that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. But sometimes I let it matter. I find that I’m comparing myself with other women, without really realising it. And it makes me miserable.
I forget that I am loved. No matter what. No matter how shiny my hair is. I am loved by my maker. Someone who can make me shine brighter than any amount of expensive clothes or make-up ever could.
I forget that these shiny girls aren’t perfect either. No matter how shiny they are, they still need a saviour. No matter how jealous I am, I still need to love them. Their outward perfection may be hiding a need to be loved for just who they are. They may be comparing themselves and still falling short.
They need this love just as much as me.
They need his love just as much as me.
He makes us beautiful. And the beauty that he gives shines out from the inside, and it lasts and it lasts.