I have a confession to make.
When I lost my beard a while back, I didn’t handle it well.
It had been my constant companion for years.
We were quite attached.
It was the first thing I saw when I looked in the mirror.
Suddenly, it was gone.
I looked in the mirror and, instead of chullet, I saw chins.
SERIOUS chinnage.
I was suddenly very self conscious about my abundance of face.
After all, a good beard covers a multitude of chins.
I wanted more jawline than jowls, I wanted strong chiseled features that made me look like Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson.
Instead I saw fleshy neck.
I felt my chin made my head look like a slightly misshapen Vienna sausage.
So when I messaged family and friends or took selfies, I conveniently cropped out my chins. I made it look like my face began somewhere around my bottom lip.
I considered only wearing turtlenecks.
I tried to stretch my face to distribute my chunky face.
My wife called me on it.
She asked why I was erasing part of my face.
She seems to be fond of my face…all of it.
I’m quite fond of her and her opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s.
So, I looked in the mirror again.
I realized that I’ve always had chins.
It wasn’t an issue until I fell into the trap of chin comparison.
In an Instagram world, we feel the pressure to filter and crop.
We want to offer the world a different version of ourselves, something less real, not as flawed.
We banish the blemishes.
We take pictures from flattering angles to try to hide the things that make us feel less.
We try to hide our chin, or wrinkles, or butt, or gut.
It carries over to other things too.
We don’t want people to see ALL of us, whether it’s our face or our finances.
We see the seemingly perfect social media life of others and we don’t want to come up short.
So we prop ourselves up to measure up to unreal expectations.
We are so afraid to be left behind that we never let ourselves be truly known.
Comparison is a cancer.
It steals joy.
It kills individuality.
It’s a crime against humanity.
We are quick to compare our condition and station.
In the last few months, the Instagram world has given me front rows seats to see people living amazing lives while I’ve been confined and restricted.
When I compare, I always come up short.
BUT, here’s the unchanging deal…
I’m NOT them!
I’m not meant to live their life and they aren’t meant to live mine.
If they are my friends, I should celebrate when their life is amazing, instead of compare and covet.
Stop comparing.
Comparing opens the door for complaining.
Complaining turns me into an art critic instead of an artist.
I criticize the art that the Creator made in me and others.
I think He takes that personal.
I would rather celebrate the uniqueness of you and me.
AND that includes my chin.
Real wins.
As I write this, my weird beard is making a comeback.
I’m growing the chullet back, not to cover anything, but to celebrate EVERYthing.
carbonated joy 