The office has plywood walls, oil-stained carpet, and grease thicker than a corpse's makeup. There is one purpose to this place: function.
Men come here every day to design and build things out of metal. From a woman's perspective, though, the walls need paint, the carpet needs replaced, and the hazmat team needs called before it's suitable.
There is one office-item in pristine condition, though: the Budweiser girl. She is tacked up squarely without a wrinkle or a stain. (Clearly the guys who work here have their priorities straight.)
I am 7.5 months pregnant. Looking at that bronzed, flat-ribbed girl makes me want to do something drastic... like draw stretch marks on her perfectly-shaped boobs.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm never gonna look like that again. (As if I ever did.)
But it won't stop me from subconsciously measuring myself against the airbrushed standard. I may not even realize it, may not have coherent thoughts about it. But it's there... the comparison.
The same thing is true about writing. We may not realize it, but some of us have immeasurable expectations of ourselves.
Can I encourage you today to push through that feeling? Lower you expectations just a little. Forget the idea that anyone's perfect. They're not. It's just a show.
The truth is, you are the only person who can write your story. It might come with a few stretch marks in the beginning, but are your readers really going to care?
Honestly... nobody likes the Budweiser girl anyway.
B.J. Hamrick writes for you and for teens at www.realteenfaith.com.
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