A year ago I felt a lurch in my chest by a comment made by my sister. I was saying something like how my forehead was huge or the how the pores on my nose were big and she replied, “you’ve gotten a lot more superficial.”
I froze. It was the first time she had said something like that. She is usually blunt and can sometimes be rude but superficial were never the words that people would use to describe me.
I just covered up the shock and replied that it’ll get better. It was no secret to her that I had only myself as company for the last few years and spending time alone with nothing keeping you busy made all the small things seem important, like my appearance.
But all she could say was, “I know, but it’s a lot worse.”
I didn’t know what to say after that.
The question that I had possibly become superficial during the process of healing myself made me feel as if I had sinned. It didn’t seem right, unfitting with the huge paralyzing situation I was in. I felt flawed, not on a deep level but rather shallow one.