Americans are told we’re not really proud of something until we display it for the world.
For some reason, we interpret “quiet and modest” as “low self-esteem.”
We can’t imagine hiding or covering something, unless we secretly feel ASHAMED.
So, we praise women with “the strength” to bare their legs in a mini-skirt, or their stretch marks in a bikini. (“Way to show off your stuff!”) And we swoon over pictures of pregnant bellies and openly-breastfeeding mothers, lamenting that we need even more proud displays of intimate moments like these–“because it’s too taboo!”
But, I have to wonder: does anyone have any treasures anymore? You know? An item or activity they keep close and personal–as opposed to laying it out on the lawn (with a big, neon sign over-head)?
It’s like we don’t know how to enjoy life’s most basic gifts without involving Instagram.
Once upon a time, our most intimate parts and spirit-stirring activities were kept private not because of shame, not because we were a society of prudes who needed to loosen up and “get in touch with our bodies,” but because sharing those beautiful moments with any old stranger breaks the spell.
Not every veil is meant to mask the ugly and shameful; some veils shield the sacred.
I’ll be the first to admit my life is a pretty wide-open book… But maybe that’s why I felt the need to bring up the topic today.
Nothing is sacred anymore. We flaunt everything we hold dear, and call it “confidence” or “self-esteem.” And if anyone dares blush, we tell them to lighten up and deal with it. (“This is what you do with beautiful things! You share and share and share and share!”)
But I’m afraid we’re losing something special with all of this veil-removal.
There’s a very fine line between flaunting our treasures and desecrating them.