I choose to be a beautiful woman, the one God created me to be.
I refuse to believe the lies that were meant for me, the ones that arise in the night, in my dreams- the distorted face with painted lips and hair curled, wide-eyed beyond sanity.
I refuse to give in to the terror of conformity, the contradiction of creativity, that lie that’s not beauty.
I choose to love the intended me, the woman of virtue, who holds her head high only because she is inwardly bowing low.
I choose this because I am worth it. He thought of me before I existed. He has given me value. I am not worth what the enemy says I am. Jesus died for me. I was worth that much.
I choose this because I am created in God’s image. He formed me in my mother’s womb. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I was not a mistake.
I choose this because I am loved. He has written my name on the palm of his hand and proclaimed his dedication through his death. His banner over me is love.
I choose this because he delights in me. He dances over me. He desires me. I am my beloveds and he is mine.
I am beautiful because He exists.
I am beautiful because He lives.
Who am I to contradict the God who has created me? I am His.
I, the loved.
I, the wanted.
The woman God has called beautiful.