The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 10

Last day of the challenge. How was it for you?

Today's challenge is to repeat this mantra: Everyone sees me, and no one is looking at me.

Assume that everyone takes notice of you. You are not invisible, you are not unappreciated. You have made an impression, however brief, on everyone in your path. People notice the colors you chose, the way you carry yourself, and the confidence you exude.

Also assume that no one is looking at the details you fret over all day. People see you as a whole package, not as the sum of the many flawed parts you tend to focus on. No one is scrutinizing you the way you do yourself.

I hope these daily challenges have helped you to at least acknowledge some of the hangups we all face every day as we go out into a world dominated by narrow definitions of beauty. Repeat them as needed.

You are beautiful.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 9

I hate the thought of being loud. Of disturbing anyone. To the point where, more often than not, I get ignored because no one thinks I'm talking to them. I talk a lot, but people can't seem to hear me. Literally, people can't hear my soft voice.

I'm so afraid of being a loudmouth. Loud sounds tend to grate on my nerves, so I assume they do for everyone else. I like to whisper in restaurants, on planes, and in line for theater tickets. When I am with a person who speaks louder than I do, I squirm every time they open their mouth.

I also like to stay out of everyone's way. I hug the fence when I walk along the sidewalk, constantly turning around to make sure I'm not blocking anyone's path. I am offended on behalf of people behind us when I am walking with someone who is oblivious to the fact that other people might be sharing the sidewalk.

In short, I value my place in society to the extent that I am able to hide myself in it.

But today I brought my kids to Target, and the three of us were criticized by another mom there with her baby. My kids were actually not being too bad; they were each pushing a little cart, and I had to remind them that other people were trying to get by in the aisles (for some odd reason, 4 pm was like Happy Hour at Target today--every aisle was crowded), but they never actually ran into anybody. And they weren't being loud until we were in the checkout line. My son started crying when I told him he had to stop pushing his cart. I only had to tell him because the woman in front of me, the same woman we kept bumping into throughout the store, was frowning at my kids and rolling her eyes. I finally apologized, and she muttered something under her breath to me.

We continued:

Me: "Well, I sure hope you don't have to deal with any of these issues when your little one (the baby in the cart throwing his bottle on the floor) grows up."

Her: "Don't even start with me. You are out of control."

Me: "...Wow."

I felt so sad that my kids and I were not, and are not, free to move and speak at will without constantly bothering someone. The general public has no tolerance for my kids, and it hurts to realize that the sentiment which breaks my heart also resides there often. I often can't stand to be around my kids in public.

But they, and I, live here and play here and have just as much claim here as anyone else. Why should I care how loud my voice is when I'm in a grocery store? In a library, I get it. Believe me, libraries are sacred places to me. But in Target?

And how hard is it to step around a child who is blocking your path, in blissful oblivion (as children know how to enjoy much better than adults)? Is it really so hard to share this world with other people?

I would like to redefine what it means to be part of the crowd. I'd like to discover the beauty of my own voice rising above all other noise. I'd like to bump into someone and find joy in the fact that we share a space which connects us.

My challenge for the day is to turn up the volume and take up more space! I will consciously raise my voice a little louder today. I will walk where I need to walk and hope that others will accommodate me, as I will for them.

Some of you may not struggle with this; your problem may be the opposite. But that's another challenge for another day. Today we celebrate being free in our personal space.

Here I come!

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 8

We all have features we would rather keep hidden. Freckles we cover up, noses we fix, bellies we suck in. Most of us have one or two body features in particular that we just hate.

I hate my little toes. My pinky toes. The nails don't grow normally. They grow in a pile, on top of themselves. Gross, I know. I have always been very sensitive about my toenails, even waiting until age 28 to get my first pedicure! I have finally gotten to the point where I can wear flip flops without embarrassment, because I have realized that no one looks at or cares about my little toes.

I need to fall in love with my toes. If I can grow to love one of my "worst" features, it should hopefully be that much easier to love the rest of what I see in the mirror.

The challenge for today is to write a love poem to your worst feature. It can be an ode to your crooked nose, a sonnet to the mole on your cheek, a haiku in honor of the knobby knees you try to cover no matter how hot it is outside...whatever.

Here's mine:

My toes,
my toes,
the nails grow
like a rose
in folds
over folds.

My toes,
my toes,
cramped and hidden
in shoes unbidden
you get stuffed into
fittin'.

Come out, little toes,
you're cute like my nose.
Point and wiggle,
and I will giggle
at my toeses,
my roses,
my "I-help-you-goeses".

You're vital,
never idle,
shoes wide'll
be your home.

My toes,
my toes,
no need to change
or nails to rearrange,
for the range
of strangeness
is beauty
to me.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 7

I think I take myself too seriously. Seriously.

I try to be very put together and composed in social settings. I am self-conscious about my smile and laugh, so I minimize all expression when I'm with anyone other than my mom and sister. I also check and double check to make sure my appearance is impeccable; because heaven forbid I let anyone see me with a bit of food in my teeth or a drip at the end of my nose (the wonderful by-product of a sinus procedure I had done a few years ago).

But I miss the freedom of being myself, without all the rehearsal and performance. I really do feel like I am putting on an act much of the time. I try to keep myself looking classy, when I'm really kind of a mess. I stumble, I cough at odd times, I fall off piano benches at church, I pass gas every now and then, my voice cracks when I sing--in other words, I'm like all of you! And I'd like to do more than just know that in my head. I'd like to laugh at myself in a way that brings joy rather than self-deprecation. I'd like to be silly without being self-conscious.

Now, I understand there are times when being silly will get you nowhere--or may even get you fired. But most of the time, I think we could all do with a little less performance and a little more natural expression.

My challenge today is to get over ourselves. Being goofy, messy, clumsy, annoying, ditsy, or one of countless other less-than-perfect qualities is actually beautiful. These qualities speak to our common humanity and vitality. The occasional gaffe does not define us, nor does it change how people see us--at least not in the long term.

The best way I can think of to pull off this challenge is to make silly faces at myself in the mirror before I walk out the door. So I challenge you to do the same! Smile, laugh, frown, stretch, open, scrunch, skew--and see the beauty inherent in expression of all kinds. Set yourself free from the need to be perfectly composed. The less seriously you take yourself, the more you will begin to redefine your beauty in terms of your inner beauty rather than your outer "perfection".

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 6

Straighten up!

Today's challenge is to walk, sit, stand and move as straight as possible.


(Image from http://coreconnexxions.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/straighten-up/)

For me, good posture is a confidence issue. I never wanted to stand straight it felt like I was trying to stick my chest out. I saw those girls at school, walking around with sway backs because they wanted everyone to notice their female endowments. I didn't want to be like that. Well, actually I did...I just didn't have the proper equipment. So I slouched. I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that my figure was anything but girlish.

I also slouch when I'm with people who are shorter than me. I do this, I think, to make sure they don't feel bad about not having the height I do. It's also awkward for me to talk down to people.

The problem with slouching is two-fold. First, it creates actual physical problems. Any chiropractor will tell you that. Second, and this is where the challenge comes in, it affects how you see yourself. When I see a picture of myself slouching, I feel old and bent. I look frumpy, tired, and sloppy. When I walk with a slouch, I actually have less energy to move around with.

When I catch myself slouching and straighten up my back, I suddenly feel empowered and confident. At least, I'm aware that I look that way to other people. I still have to deal with the issue of looking like those girls in my high school, but all in all I think I've realized that my posture really affects the image I have of myself. It feels good to walk tall.

Try to notice your posture a little more today than usual. Walk with your head high, your shoulders back, and chest unabashedly out. See how the world looks from a few inches higher.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 5

Someone asked me yesterday why I had changed my Facebook profile picture. I had been using a picture of a drawing my daughter made of me, but I was a little bored and decided to change it to the picture I posted on this blog yesterday. As I talked with this person a little more, we discussed motives for posting certain profile pictures over other ones. We tend to choose really flattering photos to post as the representational images of ourselves. There's nothing wrong with that--we all do it, we all want to put our best face forward, we all want to make a good impression.

As I looked at my photo, I began to see all the ways in which it's actually not very flattering. The bags under my eyes, those protruding lines of my neck, the general paleness...I'm laughing about it now, but catch me on the wrong day and that picture could actually make me cry. It's not my most flattering picture. If I wanted to impress people, I might post this picture:



I have a beautiful dress on, great hair, and shadows on my face to hide the bags under my eyes! Well, sort of...

But that's not always how I look, obviously. I'm afraid to post a profile picture that really shows people how I look "at home", which is not always so flattering. Here's one my daughter snapped of me while I was playing with my son:



Yeah, not so great. I would never post that as my profile picture.

But, it is a picture of me; therefore, it is beautiful. Every picture of every person must be beautiful. We are beautiful in design, beautiful in how we move, beautiful when we are living. I just can't always see that.

My challenge for us today is to find unflattering pictures of ourselves and look at them until we find them beautiful. I don't care if it takes ten seconds or ten minutes--get to know yourself from all sides and angles, see the beauty of any shape and pose, and redefine what a "flattering" photo looks like. You don't have to go so far as to post one of these as your profile picture, but it might be freeing to do so eventually. Find a picture of yourself that makes you chuckle when you remember what was going on when it was snapped, and post it as a representation of a life-giving memory rather than as the face you want people to see.

But that might take some leading up to. For now, just have courage to look at those pictures which you usually pass over or hide behind others in the album. Stay with them until they are beautiful to you. When you get to this point, chances are good that you will finally be seeing them the way others do: without judgment.

Day 4 Challenge--My Mix and Un-Matched Outift

My ensemble for the day includes three different patterns (flower print, stripes, and diamond-shaped earrings) and four different color schemes (vibrant reds and greens on my top, black and white scarf, a combo of sea green and purple on my eyes, gold and pearl earrings). It's not that I tried to find elements that didn't match on purpose; I just didn't spend too much time thinking about what I was putting on. I think it works!

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 4

Part of my routine every morning as I get dressed is to find a color thread and match it to as many aspects of my exterior as possible. If I wear a blue and brown shirt (one of my favorite color combinations), I have to line my eyelids with blue and brown. I have to find a pair of earrings that matches the shade of blue on my eyes and a pair of shoes with the exact brown hue I need. My head scarf…well, that’s the element that takes me the most time. I have to find a scarf that incorporates the colors I am already wearing. With the many prints I have, I often end up wearing a plain blue or basic brown. I don’t often get to wear my prints because they clash with my outfit. Occasionally, I choose the scarf first and an outfit to match!

My challenge for today is to choose articles of clothing, makeup, jewelry and other accessories that look and feel good…without matching each other. Mix it up. Wear two different patterns. Combine colors you would normally not put together. Wear your favorite pair of earrings regardless of whether or not they complement the outfit. Show off what you really have in your closet!
Have fun.

Send pictures to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com if you feel like sharing and inspiring others.

PS--I'm writing this post on Thursday night, so by mid-morning I will have posted a picture of my choice of expression for the day.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 3

Before I issue today's challenge, I need to admit something. I totally failed yesterday's. Looking in mirrors and windows is such a habit for me! I need to work on that. I don't mean that my goal is to never look in a mirror again; I just mean that I need to stop taking every opportunity to glance at myself. I mean, how much can my appearance really change in half an hour?

So one of the times I looked my reflection in a window today was at work. I was wearing high heels, and for some reason today they kept slipping off the backs of my heels. I had to develop a strange sort of waddle in order to keep them on without rubbing my skin raw on the outside of my big toes. I glanced in a window at work to make sure I didn't look like I was walking with a twisted ankle. I ended up taking my shoes off as soon as I got outside and walking barefoot through campus to the parking garage (outside of which I slipped them back on--I want to be comfortable, but I also want to be tetanus-free as long as I can).

Yep, there I was in a white ruffle blouse and khaki slacks...and bare feet. It felt amazing. This may be a new routine for me--waling to and from class with no shoes! I made a choice based on comfort rather than the reactions of society at large (or at least the students and construction workers whom I passed on my shoeless journey). It reminded me of a day last week when I had to apologize to my students for being unprofessional as I donned my jacket in class. It was just so frickin' cold in the classroom!

Today's challenge is to be comfortable. Take those heels off and walk flat-footed for awhile, no matter who's looking. Wear something frumpy to work (nothing that will get you fired, of course). Don't wear eye makeup if it makes your eyes itch. Wear comfy pants, shoes that fit, shorts that don't ride up, and bras that let you breathe. And relish the feeling of freedom that comes with making a choice for YOU!


(Image taken from www.shape.com)

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge-Day 2

Today's challenge is going to be a tough one for me.

I cannot pass a mirror without looking at myself. I am so afraid I will have something in my teeth, hanging from my nose, or somehow embarrassing me in any number of ways that I am constantly checking and double-checking. I also like to see my pretty face, because I lived for a long time thinking that I didn't quite have what it would take to be the kind of pretty that people recognized. I live in the tension between being exceedingly vain and painfully insecure.

When I look in a mirror, I either waste time scrutinizing every detail to see what needs to be fixed, or I walk out waiting for heads to turn because I think I look so good. Either way, I am preoccupied with how I think others will see me. Really, I am preoccupied with trying to accept the way I look and reconcile that image with who I know myself to be.

I challenge all of us to go the entire day without looking at our reflection in a mirror, window, toaster, iPhone, spoon, or friend's sunglasses. After we get ourselves ready in the morning, let's go out and live our day with no clue as to how we look! Mirrors are distorted most of the time, anyway. I think this may free our minds to dwell on others a little more than ourselves. It will also free us to focus on our choices and relationships, rather than holding our head a certain way so that our hair, or scarf, stays the way we painstakingly arranged it that morning.

Good luck! And don't be hard on yourself if you find yourself sneaking a peek--it's a hard habit to break. Just glance at yourself, get your bearings back, and move on.


(Image taken from: www.fengshuicrazy.net)

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 1

Today begins a 10-day challenge of redefining how we project our identity and recognize our unique beauty. Every day I will offer an experiment for you to try as you head out into a world where we live in a dichotomy made up of airbrushed magazine images on one side and the face we see in the mirror on the other. Hopefully this will be the beginning of determining our own standards of beauty and refusing to be victims of the war being waged on our hearts and minds by the media.

Today's challenge: Improvise!

You don't have to look like the Target models. You don't have to wear only what is "in style", according to whatever magazine you read or reality show you watch. One positive thing about being bald is that I literally can't worry about how to fix my hair to look like celebrities. But I do struggle with wanting to look fashionable. So, I improvise--not to be confused with compromise. I don't want to give up the style I'm comfortable in just to gain acceptance from some imagined panel of viewers whose opinion will define me. Instead, I put together a "look" using what I have, and I go flaunt it!



I am wearing a lace cap, a scarf, a ribbon, and a scrunchie all at the same time! I don't know what "look" this is, but it works for me. I dug around in my scarf basket and put together what I had. It's a mix between Bohemian, urban, and homemaker. And I think it fits me perfectly.

I challenge you to improvise a "look". Put clothes and accessories together that you have never seen on TV. Do what feels good and fun in the moment--be creative! It will work for you, I promise.

(For inspiration, check out the "Hel Looks" link on my sidebar.)

My Kind of Character

Today I heard a fun program on my local talk radio. The hosts were talking about colorful characters who lived in and around Chicago. You know, those free spirited, eccentric oddballs whom everyone knew and had nicknames for. In the Windy City, apparently, we have had Racetrack Rosie, Kilt Man, Chicken Man, the Black Lone Ranger, among others.



I loved one of the host's insights that these "characters" are usually assumed to have mental illnesses, when in actuality they are often healthy, fully functioning individuals who are doing what they want do and indulging in what brings them joy. I've seen some characters in this fair city. This post will be the first time I've given them nicknames. I hope I do them justice:

--"Smiley Walker": The man walks everywhere. I only ever see him walking, and I see him absolutely everywhere within the 5-mile radius around my home. He always carries a medium-sized white plastic shopping bag at his side and he is always wearing the same clothes, but he is clean and groomed. This wouldn't necessarily qualify him as a "character", except for the fact that he smiles to himself. I always wonder what he's thinking.

--"Troll King": This guy rides his bike north around 8:30 in the morning, wearing a black kilt, black combat boots, a black T-shirt, and a white helmet. Why the nickname? Well...he's got long neon orange hair coming out the back of his helmet, and even longer neon pink hair sticking out of the top of his helmet, à la Troll Doll. I can't tell if it's his hair or some synthetic extension.

He would always ride alongside the car as I was taking my daughter to preschool. She called him the "crazy guy". I thought he had moved on, but a few weeks ago I saw him at an intersection, sans bike.

--"Singing Guy": This young African guy would walk around the neighborhood singing at the top of his lungs, wearing sandals. In the summer, in the winter, sandals all year round. In the winter he topped them off with an overcoat and a pork pie hat:


I haven't seen him in so long, I'm sure his family moved out of the area. I miss his exuberance.

Actually, we have several other "singing guys" in this neighborhood. You can hear them coming for blocks.

--"Crim": As in, criminal. But not really. This guy just wandered around muttering and grinning, always in a black leather jacket and Bulls cap, looking for locks to pick. I saw him picking our front gate lock outside my window when I first moved into my building. The cops said he's harmless, he does it to everyone. I guess it was our initiation into the neighborhood. I see him around, and truthfully I have a soft spot for him.

Does your city/town/neighborhood have any "characters"? Are you one of them??!!

I'd like to be one. Maybe I could be "Bald Lady". Get a cool tattoo on my head, a great wardrobe complete with huge earrings and long skirts, and some amazing shades. I should probably sing, too.

If not that, I can get a long hot pink wig that I've had my eye on and be "Wig Lady". I could walk around with a book in my hand and stand on corners reading. Everyone would wonder. So I guess I'd be "Pink Book Lady".

Who would you be?

You look...

"You look tired."

Really? I was feeling pretty good today, actually. Until now.

"Are you ok? You look upset."

Um, I was just thinking about whether to cook pasta or tacos for dinner.

"Hey, lighten up. You look like you're about to kill someone."

Nope, wrong again. Just enjoying the view out my window.



Why don't people ever tell me "You look like you're glowing today!" or "Wow, you look so refreshed!" Is it really that I look bad all the time, that I'm not getting enough sleep, that I have clinical depression and so cannot muster enough energy to keep a smile on my face? Or is it that the lines of my face were originally drawn in a certain shape, and it takes a lot to align them in a way that fits people's idea of what a "happy person" looks like? Yes, I feel down much of the time. But I also feel good and contented quite often. Yesterday I had a great class in the morning and I was feeling pretty good about the day, but then a colleague hit me with that first line: "You look tired." I did have a rough weekend, so maybe it takes more than a good morning to counteract the effects of two really hard days. Maybe now that I'm in my thirties, I can't spend a whole evening crying and expect my face to show no signs of it the next morning.

(The story of why I was crying is not relevant. No worries, it's nothing too serious. Just beating myself up over a mistake I made. I'm slowly getting over it.)

Okay, to satisfy your curiosity, this is my face when I am not thinking or feeling anything--just letting my face fall as it may:



Do I look mad? Depressed? Bored?

Here I am thinking about something irritating:



Hmm...not too different. It's funny, I just snapped these pics and didn't look at them too closely. It felt like I was really making an effort to show my irritation, but you can't really see that.

Okay, well here I am thinking of something light and happy:



See, again I really felt my smile muscles stretching. I totally felt like I had a big grin on my face, but it looks like a forced smile in this picture.

I am so afraid of being over-the-top, of people thinking that I'm trying to attract attention to myself, that I rein my expressions in to err on the side of masking my feelings. That, or I really do have the "flat affect" that is commonly seen in people with depression. It takes A LOT for me to show strong feelings on my face, no matter how I may be processing on the inside.

But is that okay? Do I need to walk around with a smile stretched across my face in order to make others feel more comfortable around me? The thought of that just exhausts me. Maybe someday, with therapy and medication, I will be able to break into a smile that can light up a room, or a scowl that makes my enemies scurry into hiding. For now, I'm just ho-hum me. I enjoy life enough. I make an effort to let people know that I am happy for them or hurting for them, and then I come home and crash from the sheer weight of my own face. That's a burden I have to live with right now.

What does your face tell the world?

Stains

This is one of my biggest pet peeves:



Stains. Especially on brand new clothes. Especially after pulling said clothes out of the dryer with the sinking realization that the stain I treated so carefully in the wash is now set in the fabric forever.

Stains really, really bother me. When my daughter was a baby, I lived in an apartment where the laundry room was in another courtyard, across a parking lot. I usually skipped the trip and washed my baby's clothes by hand in my tub. I got that Baby Oxyclean powder(amazing stuff!!) and soaked her onesies in a bowl on my kitchen counter, then scrubbed them with detergent in the tub, wringing them out for what seemed like hours before draping them over the drying rack by the back door. If I saw that a spit up stain (or worse) had not come all the way out, I repeated the whole process over again, adding even more Oxyclean and soaking the garment for even longer.

Those days are over, thank God.

Now I have a washer and dryer at my disposal, right in my kitchen! I can literally do laundry while taking a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. Not that I've ever done it.

I find that the convenience of having my own washer and dryer has really dampened the energy and motivation I once had for treating stains. That, and the acceptance I've had to muster as I watch my kids paint every surface of the house, our furniture, and their clothes with mango juice, yogurt, BBQ sauce, ketchup, salad dressing...you get the idea.

Oddly, stains from bodily excretions come out way easier than BBQ sauce. Well thank goodness for that.

Now that my kids are older and more active, I have dirt and grass stains to deal with along with food stains. I quickly saw the futility of trying to keep new kids' clothes pristine for any length of time. So, stained they come in and stained they go back out.

BUT...not only do they stain their clothes, they also have the audacity to give me a hug during dinnertime and get some greasy, oily substance on a shirt I happen to really love. I know, serves me right for wearing anything of any value to a dinner table where kids are present.

My immediate reaction when I pull a stained shirt of mine out of the dryer is to throw it in a bag destined for the thrift store donation center. I can't look sloppy, after all. By some twisted logic in my head, there are people out there who wouldn't mind looking sloppy and buying my stained shirt for a couple dollars.

Why am I so repelled by stains? If my husband has a stain on his shirt, I get totally grossed out. He doesn't mind wearing the same shirt in the evenings at home for a week or two straight. He knows the shirt is dirty, and he knows that attempting to keep it clean is a total waste of time for him. He knows I am the only person who will see it. For him, the shirt signifies play time, a relaxing evening at home after a day in Corporate Land, perpetual snacking, and freedom to be who he wants and spend time on things that matter.

For me, his shirt signifies mess. Unkempt, slovenly mess.

Why?! Stains don't hurt. They have stories. They are like scars, except the getting of them likely caused less pain.

I heard a sermon once about living "disposable" lives. Some of us are used to trashing that which is broken and replacing it with something new. Like a toaster or a pair of shoes. How many of us take the time to mend what is broken and continue allowing that object (relationship, self image, etc.) to keep its proper place in the world and function as it was meant to function? I feel like seeing stains on my clothing wouldn't repel me so much if I were the type of person who was comfortable with imperfection and conflict.

Instead, I can't focus on anything else once I have seen a stain. I can't rest until it's either cleaned or taken out of my house. Do I do the same thing with people?

I certainly see my own "stains" all too clearly. And I try to conceal them, or I live in the angst of wanting to trade in one "suit" for a new one. If I see a stain in someone else, that mark (not without its own story, mind you) can grow in my mind's eye and come to characterize that person. It can be hard to see around the stain and take in the whole person.

Well, I am daring myself to keep my stained clothing...and wear it out. Some might say this is disrespecting myself. I'm not planning to go out in total filth; I just want to free myself from the false perfection I hide behind when it comes to my clothing. I don't want to be so careful about keeping mess off of me, because mess is where life happens.