Birthday Beauty

It took me a long time to see my own beauty.

For much of my life, I believed physical beauty had a specific standard—and I didn’t quite fit the bill.

My hair was too thin, my boobs too small, my butt too big… the list went on.

It took me a long time to truly love my body.

To care for it without judgment.

To speak to it kindly, rather than tearing it apart.

To stop harming it through thoughts, words, or actions.

It took me a long time to love myself—to understand why I had to grow up in a dysfunctional home, why I’m a sensitive soul who feels so deeply, why I’ve had to walk through darkness just to find my light.

It took me a long time to discover & understand my gifts—then embrace them, use them, and offer them in service to the world in my own unique ways.

Now, as I enter a new phase—45, perimenopausal, hormones fluxing, moods shifting (even more than my usual Gemini Sun, Aquarius Moon, Cancer Venus energy)—I feel change happening again.

My body is changing.

Youth, which I once took for granted, is now cherished.

Simplicity is savored.

I’m beyond grateful that my younger self started yoga in her 20s.

She gave my 45-year-old self the gift of grace, strength, breath, and a pathway home to my body and spirit.

She gave me a practice I’ll carry as long as I live.

I never post pics like this, but what the hell—once in a lifetime.

This is me.

In my birthday suit.

On my birthday.

I made it this far.

I’m so proud of all the things I didn’t become.

Of how different I am—for the better—than the broken 17-year-old who walked into the world not knowing how, but knowing she had to do better than the role models she was given: physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

I did it.

And to celebrate the stability I’ve created, I share this—me, in my rawness.

In hopes it inspires someone else to walk through their own muck,

and come out shining, with self-compassion, kindness in their hearts and playfulness in their soul.

This is me:

No hair.

No makeup.

No clothes.

No filter.

Perfectly imperfect. Human.

Doing my best to love and be kind—to myself and others.

To forgive myself.

To own my shit.

To apologize.

To grow.

To offer grace.

To speak the truth.

To seek the Truth.

To stay curious and playful.

To trust the flow.

To keep showing up for my Earth Angel mission.

This is me.

Take me or leave me—I’ll still be here.

Changing. Evolving. Becoming.

The best version of myself.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

~Veronica Carpenter, Yoga Therapist, Self-Love Cheerleader