Apparently, I’m getting a little spicy here. Boobs in the sun and now this.
I promise, what’s happening here was a culmination of events that led me to scrap what I originally wanted to share today (we’ll save that for next week) and land here instead. Because WE’VE GONE TOO FAR.
And somewhere along the way, we missed the point entirely.
This week, one of my daughters came home angry. She slapped a packet on the counter and declared, “They removed my freckles.”
Now, it took me a moment to reorient to what she was saying and what she had slammed on the counter. Her sports pictures came in. What should have been excitement was anger with an undertone of heartbreak.
Now, to be clear, this girl doesn’t just have freckles, but she has freckles. Especially this time of the year, post-summer sun. And she loves them. And embodies them.
I love them too. Maybe adore is a better word. I’m not sure how to describe them, other than they make her her.
When I pulled the pictures from the packet, I was taken back too. They removed all, and I mean ALL of her freckles. It was just so different that it no longer looked like her.
Here’s the thing. I don’t think body parts make who we are. And at the same time, they are us. So naturally, I was angry with her.
Of course, we talked about how beautiful her freckles are. But honestly, she didn’t need convincing. Girl is confident in them and knows it. She wasn't mad for herself, but at the person or thing that had the audacity to think removing them would be helping her.
I know, it was probably a mass AI edit, which could be classified as an “honest” mistake. And I’m surprisingly not anti-AI. But I am 100% pro-human.
And here’s what's bothering me.
It’s that we, as humans, feel the need to completely alter our bodies to the point where we become unrecognizable to ourselves.
And I want to know why.
What is the goal?
Where does this end?
What is it actually helping?
And what are we teaching the next generation about by doing this?
I sure as heck hope this inspires her to stand up to the future pressing in on her and her generation, trying to make them believe they have to change how they look to fit in. I hope they revolt against the multi-billion dollar industry pushing Botox, surgery, fillers, and peptides.
Because what is this doing for us? Like really, what?
It’s only reiterating our problems and creating a story in our children (who bear God’s image) that they’re not good enough or beautiful enough. That their worth is tied up in something that they’re not. And you don’t have to speak it to them to feel it.
I know, I grew up in the 90’s era of magazines and marketing where everyone was super skinny. No one had to tell me I was fat for me to see I wasn’t skinny.
These are the generational stories and trauma that become a legacy we leave behind.
They’re watching us, learning from us, and determining their self-worth through us. What are we showing them through our own actions?
Let’s not be naive. We’ve gone too far.
And I’m not blaming you. I honestly think sometimes it’s just a misdirected focus that has led to this. It’s a misunderstanding of what security means, which leaves people on a wild goose chase, seeking it in their external appearance.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. Because it’s not real.
And I get it. You want to feel secure. Security isn’t just a desire. It’s a human need. Which is exactly why we do wild things trying to find it or create it.
But at the end of the day, we all have to look in the mirror and see ourselves.
When the Botox wears off. When the fillers stop holding. When age takes over and the collagen declines, you have to wake up and see you.
And that shouldn’t be a bad thing, but it should be a great gift.
Which is why I started to wonder: are we missing the point in all of this?
As my mature self came back (and I stopped wanting to do things I won’t name here), I took it to God. Because I can’t imagine for one second He’s thrilled with how we alter our bodies, attempting to become some “better” version of what He already made us. As if the version He called very good (Genesis 1:31) wasn’t good enough.
I imagine it feels a bit like cooking your kids a meal you poured everything into and them looking at it and saying, “ewww gross,” and then going and grabbing a box of Kraft macaroni out of the pantry (times one thousand).
I imagine God, in his goodness, looking at us like we look at our children and thinking, you’re perfect.
You’re absolutely beautiful. And yet we throw it in the trash and destroy it.
I get it. I can’t say I haven’t been here too. Attempting to change my own look as if doing so would finally make me loved, seen, and known. I’ve spent years hating my body, hating how I look, and living out of everything I resented about myself instead of who I was actually created to be.
I even had a mole on my leg (A MOLE) that I covered with a Band-Aid for roughly three years of my teenage years because I thought it made me ugly. That’s some real generational baggage there.
And yet, on the other side of that insecurity. I am currently living in a place I feel REALLY good in my own skin. A place where I actually love and cherish my body, even if it’s not exactly where I want it to be.
Which, by the way, I need to remind you: you can love your body and still work to better it. That’s kind of the point.
But when we attempt to distort our bodies because they don’t hold up to the worldly standard, I want to remind you that message is getting passed down to our kids.
We are literally tossing off the baggage and handing it right to them (and basically saying, good luck, I hope you can find something better).
Again, what are they supposed to think, bearing our images, while watching us attempt to alter that because it’s not good enough? They can’t help but begin to assume there must be something wrong with them too.
And yet if we really sit back, it’s never been about our looks.
It’s not.
Because you know people aren’t really looking and judging you the way you think. They’re all too busy consumed with themselves to notice you.
It’s not about your looks. It’s about your security.
And your security comes back to YOUR NAME!
I know I buried this point under all of that. But this is what I need you to know.
THIS IS THE PLOT TWIST YOU NEED TODAY:
What you desire is not confidence in a body. It’s confidence in you, and that comes back to confidence in your name.
And I don’t mean that as a label. I mean it as the intent of a name. Which is never just a name. It's a representation of your uniqueness. Of your purpose. Of your essence. Not a simple label, even though we often reduce it to one to reduce ourselves.
But your name is a symbol of your design.
God says Himself, in Isaiah 43:1, “I have called you by your name. You are mine.”
He made us, and He named us.
And I’m not just talking about your name name.
Although if you’ve never looked up what your name means, you should. It’s wild how often we grow into what’s spoken over us. As Proverbs 22:1 states, “A good name is more desirable than great riches.” Not because of how it sounds, but because of what it carries.
Which is why we also see God change names throughout Scripture.
Abram becomes Abraham: “Father of many” all before he has a single child.
Jacob becomes Israel.
Simon becomes Peter.
Saul becomes Paul.
He even changes the woman at the well’s name from outcast to daughter.
And each time God did that, it was an act of love to redirect them to their purpose. To their meaning. To their essence. A course correction back to what was written on their life, long before their behavior caught up to their name.
And it doesn’t stop there. Revelation 2:17 says, “There’s a new name coming for those who overcome. One only you and God will know.”
Your name isn’t just where you started. It’s also where you’re headed.
As Priscilla Shirer states, ”Your father's name for you, the core value He has placed in you, is the one that eclipses all others and gives you true significance no one can take away.”
And that is the confidence you’re chasing in vanity.
The antidote to insecurity may be simply taking your name seriously.
It’s literally changing what you call yourself, and it’s going back and asking God, what do you call me.
I promise, he will strip every label;
ugly
fat
unworthy
outcast
And he will call you Daughter. He will call you by name.
What if the plot twist your story needs isn’t a better body, but a holy surrender to your name, and to the one who named you?
What if the plot twist this week is owning your design and letting that shape your body, because it will.
What if it’s owning the imperfections you see as a perfect creation?
I promise… I really promise that it changes how you look more than any filler ever could.
I’d love to know: what should I do about this? Should I make them add back her freckles? Or am I overthinking all of this?
Her photo needs her beautiful freckles!