Eyes of the Beholder

I haven’t been camera-shy my whole life; I have been camera-phobic.

Terrified of having my picture taken, not because I was afraid I’d lose a piece of my soul. I just didn’t want to see how I looked.

Like many women, I am my own worst critic. Used to be when people said they thought I was beautiful I’d ask if they needed glasses. I’d question their taste. I’d ask if they were sure they’d met me. I believed I had terminal ugly-duckling syndrome (or TUDS as it’s soon to be known in the pharmaceutical biz) and would go to alarming lengths to dodge anyone with a camera. The dearth of photos of me gigging is . . . well, stupid, really.

How does this work: I want to be a musician and do lots of prestige gigs and have a successful career – DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!

Genius.

Advice to aspiring singer-songwriters: do the opposite of that. You can’t have a career in the public eye if you subconsciously want to be invisible. Does. Not. Work.

I spent two months and a little bit this summer taking a class from an amazing woman named Carrie Montgomery, who taught me to see past the layers of bullshit to the beauty below; and then I spent three weeks getting more photos of me taken than I think I have had in my entire life, by another amazing woman named Stubby Webb. Carrie gave me the eyes to see what those poor vision-challenged people mentioned above saw; Stubby captured it. Magic. I am blessed beyond words. And I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again, and that, my dear friends, is a wonderful thing.

Because here’s the deal: Everybody’s beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. Some try real hard to hide it, but once you get past your own ugly-duckling bullshit, you can’t help but see the truth. We’re all fucking gorgeous. Get over your tiny self, you are, too.

Trust me, if I am, you definitely are.

I’m 52 years old, and for the first time in my life, the image of who I want to be in my head matches what I see in the mirror and in photos. If that’s not a miracle, I don’t know what is.

It hasn’t been easy, and it hasn’t been cheap, but the investment in myself gave me a sense of self-worth like nothing else ever has. Me saying yes, jumping in with both feet and making the commitment to change a fundamental attitude – one that was so deeply ingrained that I had no idea just how toxic it really was – allowed me to fully embrace and embody who I have always been on the inside.

This, my friends, is why there are, according to Marie Forleo, four life-coaches born every minute.

We need this. It is far from frivolous. It is about so much more than hair and clothes and shoes. It is about expanding to live our whole lives. Not just what we think we deserve. Not just what we think we have earned. I’m talking about living the fullest, richest, most wonderfully authentic, groovy, inspiring, joyful, peaceful, self-honoring life that you were born to live. Or, if you are like some of my nearest and dearest friends, the quietest, most perfectly solitary, easy, soothing, joyful, peaceful, self-honoring life you could dream of.

There are myriad ways to find the deep love within the self. Find one that resonates, and make an investment in you, even if it is only an investment in time. You are worthy, now. Don’t be afraid to take the plunge.

Ready to make an investment in your health and well-being? Ready to shine your light so brightly that even you can see it? I’d love to help.