I’m not a pretty runner.

But another woman running today, she, she was a pretty runner.

She looked like a beautiful gazelle.

But, me?

When I run,

I look like an excited toddler with poop in their pants.

That’s just the truth.

And I’m not a pretty eater either.

Admittedly and embarrassingly,

I’m a scarfer.

And sometimes (ew gross) I talk with my mouth full.

Nor am I standoutish pretty in the looks department.

Average-ish, sure, I’ll take that.

Cute? Yeah, I can see that.

But I ain’t over here winning any “most beautiful woman in the world” awards with my

undersized, yellowing teeth,

large-for-my-face nose,

oddly small ears,

damaged as heck hair

and obviously unnnatural, microbladed eyebrows.

I’m not pretty successful. That is if you are someone who define success as doing something that brings in lots of money.

In fact, I’m quite the opposite of that.

I’m somebody who does something that brings in little to no money.

I’m not a pretty writer.

My words are rarely packaged sweetly and wrapped up in a pretty little grammatically, correct bow.

I use run-ons,

I make up my own words

and I have a tendency to hammer home points until I’m absolutely certain I’ve nailed whatever message I’m intending to deliver.

But I am pretty confident in my ability to sideline

— and heck, even ignore —

society or any single person’s expectations for me to

“be pretty.”

The only thing any of us ever truly needs to be is pretty much ourselves every freakin’ day of our precious lives.

So these next few days, as you’re getting ready for

that holiday party,

Christmas Eve or Christmas Day,

or any other social event

or family or friend gathering,

don’t worry about showing up “pretty,”

and instead,

rest assured that you’re pretty flippin’ awesome

JUST.
AS.
YOU.
ARE.

And you run like hell from anybody or any comments that make you think otherwise and then you rest and let your natural light shine through and if others be blinded by your intended to be disarming, but accidentally off-putting authenticity, so be it.

“So be it.”

I like that.

That’s gonna be my matra these next few weeks and maybe, just perhaps, you should adopt it too.