Article February 20, 1978 Issue

Before and after

Valerie Hope Starr

Fat and with a bad complexion, unloved, unintelligent, and just plain miserable—that's how I saw myself. I was short with brown hair, and I wanted to be blonde because the television ads said blondes have more fun. I walked with my head down because I didn't want to face anyone. I even had a slight speech problem.

"But you have so much to be grateful for, dear," said a well-meaning person. "Baloney," I thought, "it's so easy for people like that to talk. Their skin is clear, they're slender, they've got everything."

I went to a Christian Science practitioner and listened to the things he said, then promptly forgot them. Meanwhile I tried various products guaranteed to make you beautiful, but they didn't work. What was I to do? It was time to get up out of myself, to pull up from the quicksand of self-pity. I wanted someone to feel human sympathy for me, but what I needed was a prodding from God, divine Mind, to set me off on the right road to finding my true self.

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