The other night, as I was getting ready for bed, Adam said something that has stuck with me for days.
You see, I was exhausted after a long day at the office being pregnant. That’s pretty much all it takes these days to exhaust me: Work & Pregnancy. But as I stood there in the bathroom, Adam caught me completely off guard by saying, “I really like it when your hair is like this. I know you think that your hair needs more volume or something, but honestly, it’s beautiful to me at this very moment and so are you.”
I hurried over to the mirror, convinced that something must have happened to my hair in the last few minutes in order to elicit such a compliment. Nope. It was exactly how I remembered it from my last glance. Nothing “special” about it necessarily — I had fixed it for work earlier in the day and threw it up in a messy bun upon arriving home. I had recently taken it out of the bun to sleep and so it simply hung on either side of my face — still a bit messy and a bit styled. To me, it did not look special. Personally, before being seen in public I would have insisting on either redoing it correctly (i.e., add some volume for goodness sakes) or putting it up in a proper bun. To me, it was tolerable, but to Adam, it was perfect. He liked it like this “best.”
For days, his random compliment on my flat, lack-luster hair has stuck with me. I think about about it whenever I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and wish I had better skin, better clothes, better hair, better style. Whenever I start to doubt whether I’ve put on too much weight, or fear I haven’t gained enough, I think back to Adam telling me that he liked that version of my “best.”
He loves me all the time. He always thinks I’m beautiful. But he thinks I’m at my best when I’m not trying. He thinks that I’m at my best when I’m in mismatched sleep clothes with no makeup on with my hair hanging unstyled. He may think I’m beautiful all dolled up, but he likes me best when the last thought on my mind is what I look like.
If we have a daughter, I hope he tells her she is beautiful at moments like that. Moments when she is covered with mud from playing outside when she is curled up in PJ’s on his lap with damp hair from her bath. Girls should be told they are beautiful when they least expect it…when they aren’t trying. They should obviously also be told that they are smart, kind, loyal, friendly, and brave. But Adam’s compliment this week has taught me that the word beautiful is often tossed around too lightly and at inopportune moments. After all, throughout the day plenty of people tell me that pregnancy looks good on me or that they like my new dress. But, I’m not still thinking about those compliments, am I?
The next time you want to tell someone they look fantastic — wait. Wait until they don’t expect it. Wait until perhaps, they won’t even believe it. Wait…because if you do, I promise they will be thinking about it and blushing for days.