When you don’t let your appearance define your beauty
When you don’t let your appearance define your beauty

When you don’t let your appearance define your beauty

Like love, I think that beauty is often best displayed when it’s in action.

Especially out on the dance floor.

There’s a really pretty view of a lake behind us, but we’re completely blocking it, so you’ll just have to trust me that it’s gorgeous.

The weekend was full of travel for me. I flew from Orange County to Dallas late Friday night, got a couple of hours with my family Saturday morning, drove down to Austin with my friend for our friend’s wedding, took a long Lyft ride to the Austin airport and flew to LA early Sunday morning, and then rode back to Orange County with a coworker friend who was nice enough to offer to pick me up all the way up in LA.

I’m currently exhausted.

It was worth it, though. I loved being able to spend time with my family and snuggle my precious niece, and it was so nice to reunite with some of my friends and celebrate the love of Nina and her sweet hubs. And, as I’ve mentioned before, I LOVE the dancing that happens at wedding receptions.

Saturday night was no exception—that dance floor became my BFF. There were a few young girls out there (I’m guessing between the ages of 9–12ish), and two of them were standing in an area toward the back and not dancing. I kept trying to get them to dance, but they seemed a bit afraid and remained in their safe zone. It makes me sad when people don’t dance. Sure, there are probably some people who really just don’t enjoy it, but I think that there are a lot of people who probably do or would actually love it but are scared of looking ridiculous.

When it comes to dancing, sometimes the more ridiculous, the better.

Bear legitimately hates dancing, but we’re still friends.

Later in the night, those two girls finally started busting out their dance moves, and they looked like they were having the time of the lives. I was so happy, and I was filled with even more joy when they twirled across the floor with me during the slow songs—single people don’t always have to avoid the dance floor during the love ballads.

At one point, the DJ played Alessia Cara’s “Scar to Your Beautiful,” and my new homegirls and I were belting the lyrics together as we danced. In that moment, my heart made a silent wish that those girls would believe those lyrics with all of their hearts and that they would always know that they’re enough—that they don’t have to change who they are to try to fit the molds of who they think the world wants them to be. I hope that they always know how beautiful they are and that they should always dance every chance they get without worrying about what the people around them think.

When I boarded the plane (which Chrissy Metz from This Is Us was on, by the way) Sunday morning, there was a very attractive fella sitting in the row diagonally behind me. I immediately became more concerned than I would like to admit about my appearance (which was what someone who rolled out of bed at 4:34 a.m., threw on some clothes, and brushed her teeth might look like), but then I thought of my sweet little dancing friends, and I stopped. It didn’t matter what I looked like right then—what mattered was that my heart was full, and I’m confident in who I am. I even spoke to Mr. Attractive a little later, but I don’t think that we’ll be having our own wedding anytime soon.

In moments of fear, I hope I have the courage of the girls who were brave enough to dance. And I hope you do, too. We weren’t meant to stand in corners and watch as the world passes us by. We were meant to live—and live boldly—as the people we were always meant to be.

Because even with our scars and wounds and broken hearts and tears and fears and mistakes and flaws and memories and messes, we are beautiful.


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