The Cost of Growth

I am sharing this with you for two reasons. First, to say thank you. You are the face of these numbers, real people with a deep love for beauty in the feminine, and I’m continually honored by your love and support. 

And second, because many of you have also paid a personal price in the pursuit of something great. Growth seems to always come at a cost. 

Your extreme growth may look like taking care of a sick family member, navigating the new world of motherhood, or starting that new job that makes you sweat more than you want to admit. More than likely, it’s a combo of many things all at once. For me, extreme growth looked like creating art on a viral stage while simultaneously learning how to scale a business. It has meant long nights working through roadblocks, crying alone in closets, exchanging workouts for extra weight, staying alive thanks to frozen microwave meals, and sadly, losing a decent amount of hair. 

To be clear, I am absolutely for rest, sustainable living, and caring for our bodies. However, not every season gives us the luxury of a both/and choice; sometimes, we are left with an either/or. Last summer, I vividly remember recognizing my art dreams were at odds with my vanity, there simply was not enough time or energy for both. So, I began the process of dying to perfectionism and letting go of control around my appearance.

Before I go further…

I want to say how thankful I am for this journey. Hard and painful at times, yes, but filled with magic nonetheless. However, some of you reading this have been on, or are still on, a much longer journey of dying to yourself. I think of women like my mom, who has cared for my dad with Alzheimer’s for 7+ years, or my sister, who has been to the emergency room with her child more times than I can remember. Sometimes, life demands growth we aren’t ready for, and in the process, we earn scars to remind us that our growth always comes at a cost. 

As women, these external scars are easier to see. Softer waists and heavy eyelids, new gray hairs and thicker necks. Yes, men experience this, too, but as women, we are predominately measured by our looks rather than our sacrifices.

Although some believe the solution is simply a game of balance, the truth is that some paths demand more than we have to give. And in the rhythmic process of laying down our armor of beauty and personal preferences for the sake of others, we find a more durable armor of selflessness–of gentle patience thicker than dragon scales–of tenacious love that guides us through painful waters–of bravery that calls us to stand back up when we’ve been crushed over and over before. 

It’s in our sacrifices, in the cuts and bruises that come with our pursuit of doing something great, that we grow into new armor fit for the battles ahead. 

To the woman who, like me, has been in an “either/or” season and is discouraged at what she sees in the mirror, remember that your scars are a testament to what you have accomplished. No, not everyone around you can see the armor of selflessness, love, and courage that you have grown into, but it’s in wearing this new armor that you will be able to create lasting change for good.