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Beckie Temple is the co-founder (with her daughter, Jamie) of the Girl-Woman-Beauty-Brains blog, so the very first thing we were compelled to ask Beckie was:
What is your definition of beauty?
Nothing is more beautiful – and sexy – than an empowered, self-confident woman. Self-love, self-acceptance, and self-esteem are the trifecta of beauty and are better wagers than fashion and beauty products.

What do you hear to be women’s most common beauty dilemma?
Many of our readers are concerned about wrinkles and body image, which breaks my heart.

How do you know when you’re inspired?
When the task at hand is effortless.

What are your favourite beauty products?
Retina-A and sunscreen.

What do you collect, or have a lot of?
Black and white photography.

What’s the advice that you’re always giving people?
Find your passion, and live your life passionately.

What books, movies, or CDs have been most helpful or inspiring to you?

My very first book that inspired me was when I was in high school when I was ready to fly the coop – Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach.

My college days introduced me to Tao Te Ching: “Let us fashion small states with few inhabitants who, without stress, can produce more than they require, who are so happy with their lives that they have no thought of migrating elsewhere.”

As a result of my children, I fell in love with Tao of Pooh. Pooh enjoys simple pleasures and the daily progress of life.

“Lots of people talk to animals,” said Pooh.
“Maybe, but…” Owl said.
“Not very many listen, though,” he said.
“That’s the problem,” he added.

Who are your Girl Woman Beauty Brains role models?
My mother. Unbeknownst to me, my mother was diagnosed with systemic lupus erythematosus, an autoimmune and chronic inflammatory disease, five years before I was born. When I graduated college, I was not aware that my mother had been living almost a quarter of a century with a death sentence. I didn’t learn until I was a young adult that upon setting up house on Algonquin Drive in Maryland, rumors surrounding my mother’s disease moved faster than the indigenous blue crabs escaping the nets of the watermen.

Most residents of the small town predicted that my emaciated 90-pound mother wouldn’t live to see me graduate high school, but when I looked at my mother, all I saw was a strong, confident, intelligent, and persevering woman. How God could fit all that spunk, compassion, and intelligence in a five-foot-nothing woman is a miracle. She believed in empowering girls and women long before the word was in vogue. She fought hard for women’s rights when women were suppressed in the 1950s.

Yes, there were days when she would sequester herself in her bedroom all day, but I didn’t find it peculiar because my parents acted as if all mothers did this from time to time.

Yes, there were also days when her thespian talents failed her. Bike rides would find Mom patiently waiting at the bottom of a hill while I rode my bike back home to retrieve my dad or brother to transport Mom and the Black Phantom Schwin back up the hill, but I didn’t find it peculiar because she had spent the day at the library helping underprivileged children learn to read.

Yes, there were days that she would have to direct the world from her gold leather recliner as a result of exhaustion, but I didn’t find it peculiar because as Dorchester County chairman of the Girl Scouts’ cookie drive, a tractor trailer load of Thin Mint cookies were not only barricading her gold leather chair but Samoas and Do-si-dos were bivouacked in the whole first floor of our house.

Not once did I ever hear my mother complain about pain, exhaustion, or headaches. She disguised the “butterfly rash” that landed on her nose and cheeks in her 20s with Ultima II foundation. She was hiding her disease from me until I could spread my wings and fly solo.

I didn’t realize until after Mom’s passing that her signature style was the result of her disease process. Her weekday uniform consisted of Jackie-O sunglasses to shield her eyes from her lupus-induced sun allergy, Lands’ End long-sleeve blouses to cover the bruising on her arms, and bohemian jingling earrings to draw attention to her ears instead of her face. Her aesthetic was one of preppy style with a twist of free spirit, which matched her personality exactly.

Mom’s ability to persevere under any circumstance, to smile even when it hurt, to look at life with a glass-half-full philosophy, and to love family, friends, and life passionately until her last breath has inspired me to work earnestly every day to exhibit the same values and character that my mother exemplified rather than taught.