You see so many posts and articles lately that start with the buzz line somewhere along the lines of “she’s beautiful and she doesn’t care what people say about her size.” Our bodies are interesting things. We place so much of our worth, and other people’s worth, in the way our bodies look. Our image. But when truth strikes peoples hearts, all you hear is, “size doesn’t matter, she’s beautiful anyway.” Those posts never end up talking about that person’s body after all, but instead focus in on a person’s courage, bravery, self-assurance, the things you can’t see on their body. That’s because true beauty doesn’t stem from our waist line, or the numbers on the scale, or what we see looking back at us in the mirror. Our souls are what’s beautiful. We don’t get beauty from how we look, or the way our bodies function. What makes up the lovable parts of us is something we can’t see. Something we can’t touch, or really grasp at all. Bodies are fragile. No matter how thin, or hot, or strong, or fat, or chubby, or weak we look on the outside, our souls are what determine our beauty; the soul of the person who lives inside. Our bodies are conditional. They fall sick, and grow tired. But our souls carry life inside of us. That’s why you see people who are terminally ill, their bodies growing progressively weaker, who are able to be joyful, and their spirits strong. Because our souls are what’s beautiful. Our souls are the life inside of us. That is the piece that keeps us alive. Our bodies are something we carry with us during our time here, but they are a conditional thing; subject to circumstance. If we started to look at each other like a bunch of beautiful souls, instead of defining beauty by bodily standards, man…that would rock my socks.