First, thank you for choosing to read my blog when the title says, “I Have Toenails.” A little backstory… before 2 days ago, I didn’t have toenails for 18 years. When I was 4 years old, a table fell on my right toe in Sunday school, specifically the big toe, and it hasn’t been the same since. When I was 14, my left big toe got stepped on in a soccer game, and has looked the same as my right toe to this day.
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I don’t remember a lot of my childhood; I say it’s because of the 5 concussions I’ve gotten from soccer, but I do remember being insecure about my toes. I’d always wear socks if I was wearing sandals, or the Toms shoes in the summer, instead of wearing flip flops. I don’t remember getting bullied for it, but no one else had toes like me; I was the different one. I do remember, and to this day I still have people asking, “why are your toes like that?” Or “what happened to your toes?” In response I would always say, “a table fell on this one, and a girl stepped on this one.” I remember getting frustrated every time someone would point out my insecurity. My mom would take me to her foot doctor and there I would get my dead toenails removed, to find them growing back the same way a month later, dead, curved, and hard as a rock. I would try creams that friends recommended as I grew older, and nothing worked.
For 18 years I haven’t seen my toenails. I don’t remember what they look like. I don’t remember the turning point or shift in my perspective of them. I honestly think it was sophomore year of high school when I grew to love them. I remember saying, “if a boy is able to love me for me, these toes won’t matter. If he can see my gross toes and still love me, well then he must’ve from God.” From that day I wore flip flops, walked barefoot, and wore open toed heels for special occasions. People didn’t like me for my toes, though sometimes I thought that. This was one of 3 insecurities, on the outside, that I walked through.
I was born with a red blood freckle thing on my left cheek, that I’d try to pop, and it would just come back. School photographers would airbrush it out, probably thinking it was a pimple, but I didn’t want to hide it. I grew to love that as well. I knew that this dot didn’t change who I am as a person. I knew I was beautiful, because my parents would tell me that I am. But did I think I was beautiful? No, because I had to seek that validation from guys. Unless a good looking fella told me I was beautiful, then I clearly wasn’t. How silly! I eventually got it removed, and I don’t remember why, but I miss it sometimes. I think I enjoy pieces of myself that the world thinks is gross or weird.
My toes, that red dot, make me feel unique, and set apart.
Now why am I writing about this? One sec.. there’s one more left.
Acne.
It all started in college, and to this day has not left me. What’s the cause? I don’t know. No sense I’m getting myself worked up trying to figure it out. I was not able to love myself because of how my face looked. I’d cry myself to sleep some nights thinking that I’d always look like this. And in those moments, when my tears would outweigh the words coming out of my mouth, i could feel the Father saying, “you are mine. What does it matter if others don’t think you’re beautiful. I have called you beautiful. You are my daughter.” Every time I eventually gained the confidence in these 3 insecurities, I’d get called out. “You should try this for your face. What is that dot? Grossss! Why are your toes like that.” People don’t know when to keep their mouths shut sometimes. To this day sometimes it’s a sensitive topic. I cried 5 min before writing this, looking at my acrylic toenails.
Each insecurity has made me stronger. I know who I am. God tells me im beautiful. He says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. These insecurities don’t define me, and they have boosted my confidence. Acne tells the world that I don’t clean my face, my toes tell the world that I’m infected and contagious. I say that I am still me, even with crusted toenails and acne from time to time. You can let those things destroy you, or remember that you are beautiful. The things on the outside do not effect who you are on the inside, unless you allow it to.
My toenails remind me everyday just how good God is, and that I get to choose joy regardless. I can’t express the amount of love, joy and gratitude I have towards the Father for my toes and my face! Sounds silly, but it helps me to inspire others around me walking through similar things. What man intended to become an insecurity, God turned it around into something good.
I hope this helped maybe just one of you. If you have any questions, or want advice, maybe someone to talk to, I’m here for you!
