To be beautiful...

So I spoke at the RefresHer Girls' Event today and I shared this... wish I was more embarrassed, less embarrassed... I don't know which one. Either way, it's been shared so here it is. May you find your beauty in service to others, more than anyone else. -Melis

When I was in the 5^th grade, I wore my first pair of black heels.

They made me feel beautiful. I felt so grown-up, so dressed up, so stunning.
That was until I walked into the hall of my school and the girls laughed at me.

I didn’t feel very beautiful anymore.

My hair was always down to my waist. People would ask me the strangest questions about it.

“What do you do when you go to the bathroom?” Was that a real question?

My dad always loved my long hair but no one else did and my Miss America costume for Halloween was less than stunning. I was scared…

And I didn’t feel very beautiful anymore.

I remember the first time I got my haircut. I could feel their eyes.

For the first time, guys at school were looking at me.

On the last day of 8^th grade, he looked in my direction and told me he couldn’t wait to see me in high school. I didn’t really know what beautiful was.

For the first time that I remembered, I was actually told I was beautiful in a note.

Stephen was a senior and I was a freshmen. He had curly black hair and a contagious laugh.

We were in choir together and throughout the year, I always had a crush on him.

He sat next to me on the bus on the way back from a state basketball game.

His note told me I was beautiful and he underlined it and put a square around it so I would notice it.

I don’t have that note anymore but I remember what his hand writing looked like because it was one of the first times I had actually felt beautiful, not just cute or pretty or sweet. Beautiful.

When I was in college, I remember my friend, Chris, holding the door for me back into my dorm.

He looked me straight in the face and I knew what that look meant.

He was telling me I was beautiful and he didn’t have to say a word.

I never asked him because I was too scared it would fade or change or wouldn’t last.

And how fair was it for him to be disappointed because I changed? What if my beauty faded?

As a 29 year old, I usually still don’t get it. There are few things that make me feel beautiful.

I feel like I am FINALLY realizing what it means to be REALLY beautiful.

It is more than a hair color, or facial structure or makeup layering.

It is more than a style or trend of clothes or how much I spend or don’t spend on those clothes.

Being beautiful and feeling beautiful happens more often when I make the lives of those around me more beautiful.

Laughter is beauty. Smiles are beauty. Caring is beauty. Putting others first is beauty.

If I could name some of the moments where I’ve felt the most beautiful, they all consist of other people.

Photo Credit: Carly Souza :) 

When my kids at school tell me on a bad makeup day, I’m beautiful, I feel that way.

When their eyes light up when they understand something I’m teaching, I feel beautiful.

When they take my advice in the middle of a presentation and stand confident, I feel beautiful.

When the homeless man at the light smiles because I gave him my extra chicken, I feel beautiful.

When I’ve sat and small little African girls who’ve never seen Americans before play with my hair and rub their hand on my skin, I feel beautiful.

When I drive across town with my windows down and my music up and I’m singing along and don’t care who hears me, I feel beautiful.

It’s not superiority. It’s not about arrogance or selfishness or self-centered behaviors.
Beauty is forgiveness and love and grace.

If we would make more people feel more beautiful, we would leave a be-you-tiful legacy because it wouldn’t be about us anymore, it would always be about them.