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Half an hour later, I’m taking deep breaths, trying to find my focus as I wait for the presentation to start.
“This evenings recipient is one of the most exciting we’ve had since Upward started having this event. Ladies and gentleman, if you’ve had a chance to view the artwork in the brochure, then you know that we’re in the presence of greatness. And not just because she’s got such a unique and outstanding talent. But because of the way she’s chosen to use it. She’s the youngest recipient of this award in our organization’s history, and one of the most outstanding. She’s started a movement - one that’s asked us to look at ourselves and see the good others would call ugly or strange. Her art encourages us to celebrate the true beauty in each other.”
I stop paying attention and scan the crowd. I see my girls, the students I teach at the center sitting at the table Upward gave me. I invited them because they care, but also as an apology.
After Upward’s write-up about me and the announcement of my having won the award, I knew that if I was going to accept it in person, I had to tell them first.
They were amazed and a few of them were hurt that I hadn’t told them, because all of them follow the account.
My follower count ballooned overnight. I couldn’t keep up with the requests. And it killed me to read their stories and only be able to respond with a few lines of an apology by email. Dina suggested a Facebook group. So we started one and had three thousand members by the end of the first week. They share with me, and each other. A few of them have made their own “mirrors” and they share those, too.
I’m not Oprah or anything, but I’m proud that my art brought these women together. They’re from all over the world but are all struggling with the same thing - feeling inadequate when they compare themselves to whatever archetype they’ve been told they should resemble. I’ve given them a place where they don’t hear “work harder, eat less, smile more” in answer to their cries for help.
“With no further ado, I give you the artist we all know as The Free Beth.”
The crowd is on their feet as I walk out onto the stage. My heart is racing and I scan the crowd for my touchstone and smile when I see Joe beaming with pride at our table. I smile at him and he nods and places one of his gnarled hands over his heart.
I glance down, ready to start my speech. I skim the first couple of lines while the crowd settles.
God, can I really do this?
Yes, I can.
I adjust the microphone and look out at the now expectant crowd. My heart is thudding so hard that my throat feels like it’s quaking. I’m so scared. But, I know that this the only way I can break free.
“Good evening, everyone. First, I want to thank Upward for this incredible honor. I dedicate it to the people whose shoulders I stand on. It’s because of them that I can see so far.” My nerves are still running high and so I take a second to find Joe in the crowd. He smiles encouragement at me.
“When I started painting the portraits that have captured so many imaginations, I didn’t think that anyone would even see them. I certainly never thought I’d stand on a stage in front of a room full of people who wanted to thank me for painting them. I’ll be honest and tell you that when I found out that I was being given this award, I wasn’t sure I was ready to make my public debut.
“Not because I don’t believe in my art, I do. I paint with purpose. Every stroke carries a part of my heart that I want to share. But because I was afraid you’d be disappointed by the human being behind the work. I’m no visionary and contrary to the paintings I share of myself online, I don’t really have wings.” I turn my back as if to show them.
A ripple of laughter runs through the room and I relax a little as the room warms up.
“I’m just someone who’s been able to get back up after every fall. I’ve gathered up the broken pieces and put them back together. I’ve tried again, countless times. It was only as I was thinking about what I’d say tonight that I realized how remarkable that is. I’ve had a few crash landings. My sister once told me I was born with this irrepressible hunger for more. For many years, I thought of it as a curse. I wanted things that were so far out of my reach, that I couldn’t see a way toward them. And for years, I didn’t even bother trying. One of the questions I’m asked more than any other is why I don’t show my face. I’ve always answered the same way; what I look like isn’t important. But that’s only part of the answer. The truth is, I wasn’t sure people would respond to my art the same way if they could actually see me.”
I cringe as a few nervous laughs come from the crowd. “I know, I know. I’ve built a movement that encourages women to take pride in their inner beauty,” I say as if I’m commiserating with them. “But, I’m a work in progress. And I’m trying to dismantle a mindset that was built over the course of a lifetime by very skilled and determined architects. Like so many of you, I was taught that my value was rooted in how close I came to the standards of beauty that we see on TV, in movies, in film, online. I wasn’t anything close to that.
“I accepted good enough because I thought that was my due. A father who didn’t love me was better than no family at all, right?. A gilded cage was better than having no shelter from the rain.”
I smile brightly at the crowd.
“And then, I met someone who looked at me and somehow saw the beauty that I carried inside. Through his eyes, I got a glimpse of what a full life might be like. He showed me what family, love, joy, and freedom felt like. If the random nature of birth had put me in a cage, his love was the key fashioned to fit its lock. And you know what else I’ve learned ya’ll?”
The room is silent, and I can feel them hanging onto my words. “All of those times I fell - that wasn’t some sort of manifest destiny. That was preparation. I’ve gotten up stronger, smarter, less afraid of everything. Instead of curves and shadowed valleys, but it’s also populated with dreams I’m willing to die for.So that when I was finally free, I could see the truth of things. I wasn’t born to endure, or break, I was born to fly.”
A loud round of applause breaks out, and they give me the courage to finish as I planned.
“So, I’m going to take another leap here with you tonight and practice what I preach, not just online, but in person. There isn’t one definition of beauty - there are seven billion. I’m honored to be able to stand before you and show you mine.”
I close my eyes, take a deep, steadying breath. Without letting that breath loose, I reach into the tiny clutch purse I carried on stage with me and pull out the make-up removing wipes inside. I start with the left side of my face and wipe my make up off. A hush falls over the crowd.
“Here’s the truth of me. This is what I look like, but it’s not who I am.” I stand barefaced in front of them.
“Yessss, Queen,” a male voice calls out, but otherwise, no one makes a sound.
But I know they’re with me. They asked me here in celebration and elevation of the mission that I’ve claimed as my own.
“I am living proof that no matter where you come from, or what lies you’ve been told about yourself, no one is in charge of your future but you,” I point at them.
