Tag Archives: beautiful

Beauty Means Be Yourself

Beauty means be yourself. 

Coco Chanel is quoted as saying “beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself.” In a world where we can’t decide what we’re ok with, that can be a slippery slope.

I have written about this before. On one hand society says to embrace your flaws on the flipside when women share pictures of themselves without makeup it gets picked apart. Or conversely when women wear makeup they can be judged. I can’t tell you how many memes I saw about how quarantine was going to force women to be natural and all the jokes.

I recognize it should not matter.

But it does.

You feel it.

I feel it.

I felt when I was really little.

I try to shake it and I have friends who say, why do you care what someone thinks of you. 

Maybe because what I worry about is such a big part of me.

I was born two months premature. As a result I have always been the smallest. My hair & nails don’t grow like I’d like. I had a hole in my heart which meant two open heart surgeries. But the thing that I worry you will notice. 

That I don’t like to talk about.

Are my teeth.

I never got my adult teeth. The teeth that did come in were my baby teeth, but they were incredibly small and … pointed.

The name calling started pretty early on.

I think it was kindergarten or first grade walking home from school there were some older girls who would call me jaws and witch face.

My chin was pointy. There was concern about how this would impact my jaw growth.

I never smiled showing my teeth. I dreaded picture day at school because the school photographer would always try to get me to show my pretty smile. Thankfully my teachers would step in. I was already shy. My situation with my teeth, just added to it. Glasses at eight.

It felt like a lot.

Then my parents found a pediatric dentist. Dr. Wilson. At twelve I got my first pair of dentures. I had to take a few weeks off of school. I had to relearn how to eat. Talk.

When I went back to school I was a novelty of sorts. I leaned into it. For the first time in a long time I was not picked on. 

I also abused the power of the dentures. I totally used them to torment my younger brother, I know… Trust me, I know.

However- a twelve year old with dentures is still unusual and I ran across situations where I was reminded of that, even by adults.

I found solace in my situation with humor. Like sneezing. Hear me out. The first time I sneezed (I’m not a dainty sneezer FYI) my dentures flew across my bedroom and hit my bedroom wall.

I erupted in a fit of giggles. Only able to point at them on the floor when my Dad asked what was wrong.

I floated along still not knowing how to smile. Still not  always feeling comfortable smiling.Things I still worry about… my breath and eating. I always worry that it’s not my smile that will give me always but how long and awkward it can be for me to eat. I have overdentures. To make sure my jaw grew properly not all my teeth were pulled. So my dentures rest on some teeth and metal posts. As a result depending on what I’m eating it can be tricky. Then I worry about my breath because of that. 

Then came my first kiss. For the record. And this has been my experience… men could care absolutely less.

For real. 

When I started college and had my first real boyfriend he kinda shrugged his shoulders. It was my roommate who was squeamish.

Around the time I was twenty seven I began to have problems with my dentures. So I needed to find a dentist. My first experience I remember being in the waiting room and hearing two of the hygienists talking about my case. I was called odd, “can you imagine” one said, when they called my name and I stood up I said “I’m good” and walked out.

It took two years before I worked up the courage to go to another dentist. I sent an email to two dentists in our area. Both sent me very kind emails back but it was my guy Dr. Hazen who got my first and last visit. His whole team made me feel welcome. When he gave me my new set of dentures we both cried. We still get teary when we see each other. I am not as  embarrassed by my teeth anymore. I still haven’t figured out smiling with teeth. It feels odd to me. There are certain things I am still worried about.

I still have friends who ALWAYS comment on how perfect my teeth are. 

And my dream is implants, but financially I just can’t. But for now I have something in common with my pals who played hockey, can still gross out my little brother and get a bit nervous when I sneeze. 

I focus on the humor. I deflect. 

Maybe I’m a little extra.

I hyper focus on certain parts of me in hopes that you won’t notice my teeth are plastic.

But then …

I think how lucky I am to finally be able to show my pretty smile when asked by a photographer.

Self love is tricky.

Being yourself is hard sometimes and  not for the reasons you think.

I’m working on it.


Much love

Much kindness 

And be safe Mommas


Hey Gorgeous, Let’s Talk The Truth

Hey Gorgeous!

Ya you.  I’m talking to you.

Hello gorgeous.

Do me a favor…no wait… do YOU a favor.

Repeat this sentence 5 times:  “”I am gorgeous. I am lovely.  I am amazing.””

Go ahead.   5 times.    Later you can do it in front of a mirror.

Every. Day.

Because you are.  THAT, my friend, is the truth about you.


Now maybe somewhere along the way, you may have believed a lie.  A lie that someone said to cut you down, to make themselves feel better about their awful life, or maybe you endured some pretty tough bullying, or hate mail, or stalking or something that took you off Beauty Avenue, Glorious Street or Captivating Road.  Did you?

And where are you now?

Wherever you are and whatever road you’re on, it’s not a Dead End and it doesn’t say No Outlet anywhere.  It’s a road that connects to another road… to a different neighborhood, to a different town and to a different state. It’s a road with opportunities, blessings, new realities, rewritten stories. It’s the road you’re on right now, doing what you’re doing and if you keep walking and keep believing and keep digging deep into your soul to shine your brightest light, you will end up in a beautiful place.  As you tell yourself, Every Day, that you ARE beautiful and lovely and amazing, and you journey forward, around the culdesacs, through the barriers, down the hills and beyond the twisty turns, you will see what lies ahead.  You just have to keep going.

When you get tired and it’s too messy to see and everything seems to be stacked against you, remind yourself WHO YOU ARE.  The Truth of you.  The deep down, raw, babygirl truth.   Because when you come right down to it, that’s all that matters.

Add some more words of your own to your daily mantra.

Wonderful, Magnificent, Stunning, Delightful, Marvelous, Smart, Outgoing……whatever you can add about your Truth….add it proudly.


Your God Girl



Smoke and Mirrors

Smoke and mirrors…

I spent some time – (can I add a big hooray to that by the way) with one of my favorite humans this weekend helping her find a dress for a wedding. We started talking about relationships and appearances.

We are both on the later and earlier side of our 40’s and 50’s respectively. She was sharing conversations she had with another group of girlfriends all in different phases of relationships and how their partners talked to them.

If I’m being honest – this is fascinating to me. We live in a society that definitely plays both sides. Pinterest is FULL of inspirational quotes around loving yourself. When a magazine cover features a model who isn’t a size two, it’s revolutionary. YET the backlash is REAL. Even from those who love you.

Little comments… you’re going to wear that? That’s an interesting color. All those tattoos make you look tacky.

I have written about this before but I was picked on. A lot as a kid. I was the smallest, had problems with my teeth, glasses, and a skin condition. So even though I’m not that little kid anymore, I’m always going to be that little kid.

Which makes me super sensitive and very aware of how I look.

Throw in a marriage where EVERYTHING about me was picked apart. Followed by a long term relationship with a guy who scrutinized my appearance.

The internal struggle is real. I am a big hearted person who wears my heart on my sleeve. So unfortunately at 47 I’m still putting bandaids on some hurts.

But you know what? It’s unfortunate but it’s ok. We all have our stuff.

Here’s mine:

I am the lady who only recently started wearing leggings in public. I just bought my first pair of sweatpants. I also, always at a minimum wear lipgloss and mascara when I leave the house.

I realize as I typed that it’s pretty crazy pants. You want to know the even crazier part?

I don’t push any of this on my daughter.

Thankfully she doesn’t read these because I’m about to truth bomb…

Showering – umm do twelve year olds feel it’s not necessary? She has BEAUTIFUL hair, which she refuses to even put in braids! Please let your Mom style it? No. Ok. Doesn’t want earrings. The last time she wore a dress was for a play. She loves lipgloss however- ok that might be me a little. She has only mentioned her weight once and it was never mentioned again when we talked about how it’s about being healthy. She is so tall. Her favorite thing to do is show anyone and everyone she is taller than me.

She is solid in who she is.

And it’s magical. I love it and want to bottle it and spray that on me.

So even though inside I’m continuing to fight the age old battle of not feeling like I’m enough

because of how I look or even sometimes who I am, yes I realize how ridiculous that is. The smoke and mirrors are working and I’m somehow magically showing my daughter she is more than enough. No matter what she looks like, because that is absolutely not what it’s about.

Sidebar my magical creature recently had a birthday and donated almost all her birthday money to charity. And FYI this was the first year she got birthday money but felt that strongly she needed to help.


Mommas we are more than our outsides. We are Moms. That’s a hard job.

On my end I’m trying. I have a magical twelve year old who can get things off shelves for me looking at me and how I handle things. I gotta show her I really am the badass I pretend to be.

Much love Mommas

<3 Caprise

What’s My Age Again?

Here I am again writing about my age, getting older and it’s impact, especially on our perception of beauty. One of the very first posts I wrote was on retrospect a kind of ranty post about how I have earned the right to be who I am as I age. This all started as it does because of an insomnia fueled evening spent too long on social media. Filters, crops, edits. Likes, loves. It got me thinking. As we get older is beauty really authentic or filtered. How do you define it? What does it look like? Feel like? What does beauty and aging mean?

Knowing I had a blog post due I asked.

The irony is as I have talked to others I wasn’t too far off from my original post.

Here are the amazing words of the people in my life:

“It equates denial.”

“It’s confidence, kindness. I’ve earned every wrinkle and silver strand of hair just by living life. I feel pretty lucky to be alive.”

“Being confident in who I am and who God made me to be. Aging is great when you realize through the years that those things that make you NOT look like everyone else, are the things that make you uniquely you, and that’s where true beauty is found.”

“I think we live in a pretty awesome time to be “aging” women. When I hit 40, I felt so much more free. And as I get closer to 50, I feel my most amazing, healthy, radiant, and yes beautiful. Now it’s about ME and I finally really, truly don’t care what people think. Plus we have some awesome role models.”

Beauty as you get older is truly relative. When people say it’s all about your attitude I’m here to say I think I finally get it.

At the end of the day whatever makes you happy, brings joy to your life, gives you that spark isn’t that what it’s really all about?

I truly look forward to more adventures. Hopefully becoming a Grandma. Even if it’s of the four legged variety. Beautiful silver hair like my Great Grandmother Mary had. Less makeup or more. Finding my favorite outfit and signature perfume.

Those are the legacies my Grandmothers gave me.

Either way.

Every wrinkle

Piece of hair glitter

They are our mile markers of a life lived.

Much love Mommas,

<3 Caprise