I began this blog as a way to redefine, or perhaps rediscover, the beauty of ME after losing all my hair to alopecia universalis over 5 years ago. Join me in the movement to see ourselves and our world through a lens not offered by our culture.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Not this again!



Toothpaste, cosmetics...and a razor?! What?! Since when do I need a razor? Hello, alopecia universalis.

Apparently, my body is a little wishy washy when it comes to my hair, as is the case with all alopecia alumni. After being totally and completely without hair for years, minus a little peach fuzz on my face, I am suddenly finding sprouts in highly undesirable places. My body can't grow hair on my head or give me eyelashes. Oh no. Instead, my body is functioning properly on my chinny-chin-chin and (worse yet)under my arms.

Why, of all the irritating....

"But", some people excitedly tell me, "this means your hair is starting to grow back! You should be grateful!"

First of all, this does not mean my hair is growing back. Sufferers of alopecia universalis learn to hold hair lightly. It may come, but it will almost definitely go again.

Second, I don't know any woman who is excited about hair under her arms. Having no hair anywhere else does not induce me to jump for joy when I see hair in the only places it was worth losing it in!

When I first saw the little black hairs while I was getting ready for a day at the beach, I grabbed the nearest pair of tweezers and just went nuts. Finally though, I had to break down and buy a razor. I know I'm just succumbing to socially-assigned rules of feminine hygiene, but I just can't go around with hair under my arms when I don't have it on my head. That's crossing the line for me.

So, shaving has once again become part of my daily routine. (Well, weekly maybe.) I lost THE best perk that came with losing all my hair. The only good news is that, if I wait a couple years, it will probably all fall out again.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Scratches and food stains and nicks, oh my!

I'm so frustrated. My sunglasses have a scratch on them, right where I need to look straight ahead. I can't go around with that blurred spot right in front of me. And to top it all off, I just bought these a few days ago.

I'm really, really annoyed. My new shoes are scuffed at the toe. This happened the second day I wore them.


My husband's only suit has a stain on it that didn't come out with dry cleaning.

A purse I had for a few weeks came apart at the seams. Well, at one seam.

A new cardigan from Target got a hole in the armpit the first time I washed it.

My brand new bike looks ten years old after a rainstorm made it rust.

I'm putting duct tape on shoe heels, taping pages in library books, replacing batteries far more often than I should...why can't anything just stay "nice"?

I don't know if I should start spending more money on products of higher quality, or just protect my belongings more vigilantly from wear and tear. I just hate the feeling I get when I see that first sign of use on something new and costly. Even if it's no costly, I feel like I have thrown money away on it if it gets marked up somehow. I will replace the sunglasses, even if I just bought this pair, because I can't stand to wear them with a scratch on them. I will donate my kid's dress if it has a yellow paint stain on it.

Like people who shop in thrift stores want the stain any more than I do.

I wrote a post on this not long ago. Then, I was able to identify stains as evidence of a story. Or two. But when I get a scuffed heel or a torn strap, I just feel so...helpless. The cycle of buying, using, and replacing seems so repetitive. And since I don't have the time or talent to fix these things myself, they just go out the revolving door of goods that leave my house and then seem to find their way back in later, albeit in different forms.

So maybe I should stop sending them out. Maybe I should wear scuffed shoes and stained blouses to work. Why not? What's the big deal? Apparently, scratches and food stains and nicks make the wearer/bearer appear to be careless. Or lazy. Or poor. We want to make a good impression, so we hide these imperfections when they occur, or we dispose of them.

I don't know what the solution is. I have had shoes from both Payless and DSW break after only a few weeks of wear. The only brand of shoes that lasts for years and years, at least for me, is Naturalizer. This is not a plug--just my experience.

I guess I should go on Pinterest and look for those DIY cleaning and repair tips. You know, where every problem is solved with vinegar.

Until then, maybe all these scratches and stains and tears are telling me to slow down, pay more attention, and take care. Maybe they're telling me I'm too hard on myself. Or...maybe they're telling me to stop trying to avoid the unavoidable and enjoy what I have. Period.


Wednesday, July 17, 2013

YourSpace

We all take up space. We are privileged to live and move within a personal bubble, able to exercise control over at least our immediate surroundings. Many people take full advantage of this "right". They strut, they argue, they flirt.

Me? I don't like to assert my space. I prefer to pretend that I don't really take up any space. I step aside, I lower my eyes, I back off. I don't loathe myself--I just think other people would be put off if I were to privilege my space, and all that goes on within, over theirs. I am, essentially, a people-pleaser. I never want to be the cause of strife. But this is not truly about wanting the best for others. I think it's more about wanting others to think highly of me. Always.

But lately...

I have had to let others know, sometimes rather assertively, that I have just as much "right" to be in my space as they do in theirs. I suppose it's for my growth that I have increasingly been thrust into conflict, but it's actually really draining for me. For some divinely ordained purpose, I have a family made up of strong-willed lawyers and lawyers-in-training. My husband and kids are incredibly bright lights. They are fierce, smart, and loud! They are not ashamed of the space they occupy. They don't just breathe in its air; they suck it down like lemonade. They dance, they laugh, they shout. They argue. They don't look back.

But as their personal bubbles stretch and expand with so much life inside, they bump into other bubbles. And walls. And rules.

And I have to patch up the other bubbles, or at least stop them from quivering in the wake of...okay, my poetic analogy has fallen apart. You get the idea. I now find myself regularly facing conflict with the very people I have spent my life trying to appease: neighbors, counselors, teachers, babysitters.

My husband told me recently that maybe the purpose of these conflicts is to set me free from the need to have people like me. I don't need to be everyone's friend, he told me. And I have to wonder.

Is it so wrong to want to keep the boat still? When the boat rocks, people fall overboard. And I hate getting wet.

But, for better or worse, I do have to grow up and toughen up. I have to stand in my space and raise my voice without fearing that someone will question my right to be where I am.

Yeah...I'll let you know how that goes.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Emergence of a Mean Girl?

I am terrified of my daughter becoming a “mean girl”. Her dad and I have blatantly tried to impose our values upon her, ceaselessly providing opportunities and challenges to appreciate beauty from non-traditional sources. This used to work just fine.

Now, at age seven, our voices are not the only ones she takes in. The voices on the playground are, sadly, louder at the moment. I have been watching this transformation in her, from a believer in the Veggie Tales gospel that “God made you special” to an impressionable social seeker rapidly moving toward the lemming-like tween years. I see her trying to reconcile messages she gets from the trusted adults in her life with messages from friends whose approval means everything right now.
I thought I would have a few more years to prepare for this.

But, here we are. Her behavior is very unpredictable at the moment. One day I catch her speaking with openness and affirmation to girls in a park about her mom, who “has alopecia and that’s why she has no hair”, and the next day I find out that she has made hurtful comments to a dear friend about her appearance. One day she is genuinely befriending a girl with severe facial deformities at her school, and the next day she is playing the “that girl’s scary so let’s run up to her, scream, and then run away" game at the same girl’s expense.

It’s hard to know how her sorting out process is going. Which messages will stick with her? Which will define how she acts and views people around her? She has a kind heart, but she is also desperate to be a normal kid with friends who accept her. What is my role right now as a parent? Do I keep trying to impose a set of values on her as a foundation for the choices she will make later in life? Or do I take a deep breath and a few steps back, allowing her to glean her own wisdom as she witnesses the consequences of her own actions?

This little incident with our friend happened just the other night. Apparently, Esther said something hurtful, and then my friend addressed it by explaining that the comment hurt her feelings. Fine. This is to be expected at my daughter’s age, and I’m glad my friend was able to talk about how the comment made her feel and why it’s not appropriate to repeat.

What is absolutely not fine is that my daughter did, in fact, repeat the comment again, immediately after hearing how it had affected this friend. Maybe she was trying to see how far she could push; maybe she was more interested in watching and learning about our friend’s reaction than in the actual content of the messages; or, maybe she really couldn’t really identify with the fact that her comment had hurt this friend, whom she loves.

After hearing about this, I got my “I can’t believe you did this, because I know you are not this kind of girl” face on, and I let her know, without a doubt, that what she said was not okay. If the conversation had ended after the first comment, I would take a different approach—something like sitting down, asking questions, explaining why the comment was not something we would want to say again, etc. The fact that she said it again after our friend talked to her about it is what concerns me. So, after the lecture, the “mommy’s mad” eyes and the finger wagging, I decided I had better engage her in a different way. I want her to know the seriousness of verbal insults, but I also want to make sure she is developing a worldview in line with the ideals of compassion and justice.

So, I made her draw a picture of our friend. I told her to draw this friend exactly how she (my daughter) sees her. Then I asked her to write “(Name) is beautiful”. Drawing on notes I have taken in therapy sessions, I figured a picture would help to make concrete the abstract notion of using words to build people up rather than tear them down. I wanted her to create an image that she labeled as “beautiful”, not only to associate it with our friend, but also to own the feeling of being able to be a definer of beauty instead of just a judge of it.

This journey is just beginning, I know. The years to come will be filled with similar instances of reconciling two different sets of standards. I have hope in the solid foundation we as parents, along with family and community reinforcement, have given our daughter—and our three-year-old son. I must also look on my daughter with as much compassion as I am asking her to show others. And there’s the rub—because having compassion on my daughter’s emergent “mean girl” tendencies, real or imagined, requires me to have more compassion on the corners of my own self/heart wherein lie similar tendencies.

I haven’t decided whether or not to give the picture my daughter drew to my friend. That forced apology thing (“Now, say you’re sorry, and tell her she’s beautiful”) has never sat well with me. I do want my friend to know what I’m working on with my daughter, but I would like to wait until my daughter draws a picture of our beautiful friend without prompting before giving anything to her.

Raising daughters. Raising little women. Lord, help us.


Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Princess Overload

The obsession with Disney Princesses in our society is becoming more and more evident to me as I look for topics to write about on my blog. They are ubiquitous, both on the web and on store shelves. I get it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to wear extravagant, colorful gowns and have adventures with talking animals and roguish men all the time?!

What is really fascinating about the Princesses is how many people have tried to reimagine them. By that, I suppose I really mean “re-image” them. As in, give them a new image. I have seen the Princesses bald. Fat. Old. Bespectacled. Depicted as suburban moms. Dressed in historically accurate costumes. Placed in dark settings of human suffering.

Why are so many people spending so much time trying to insert the Princesses into so many different contexts?


(lookmatic.com)


(deviantart.com)


(weheartit.com)


(fanpop.com)


(Dina Goldstein)

No wonder it's so hard to get my daughter to think about something else--anything else--besides Princesses. They are no longer one-dimensional, fairy tale characters. Now, they have walked in our shoes. Or at least we like to think so. We like to imagine the Princesses in less-than-perfect situations--maybe because we so desperately want to believe that the perfection they exude in their original context is really unattainable. If we could see from all other angles, maybe we would realize that we don't have to keep hoping to escape into the world of a Disney Princess.

We want them to step into our lives for awhile, if we can't step into theirs.

Are these re-imaginings helpful? I don't think so. I think they only serve to keep us fixated on these "characters". I appreciate the idea behind all these efforts to humanize the Princesses. Just as I appreciate how the latest Princesses have starred in stories which are about more than just love and marriage. Still, these stories and these new images are all pointing to a particular definition of "beauty"--whether by modeling it or depicting its antithesis.

Lately, I have heard some words coming out of my seven-year-old daughter's mouth that disgust me. I'll just be honest. And I have threatened to take Princesses completely out of the picture for her if I feel they are distorting her perception of others around her. I have allowed Princesses to be part of her life to a certain extent, but I'm discovering how quickly they can become an obsession. An obsession promoted and capitalized on by our culture.

Instead of reimagining the Princesses, I would like to refocus the lens on women (men too, but women in particular) who need to feel a little more brave, beautiful, deserving, talented, adventurous, and all the wonderful qualities celebrated in the Princess archetype. Let's get over the Princesses and the efforts to give them more and more "original" or "realistic" looks, and let's focus on actual reality.

I want my daughter to spend her time appreciating what she sees in real people, not surfing the web to see how many different kinds of Princesses she can see.

I want my daughter to see different body shapes, sizes, colors and ages as equally beautiful parts of a spectrum, not as novelty affectations on a Princesses body that make her giggle and/or sneer.

Most of all, I want my daughter to believe that life is valuable because it is given by God, not because the Princesses have endorsed certain aspects of it.

Friday, July 5, 2013

To Tatt or Not To Tatt...or Too Tatt?

Well, another birthday has come and gone without me getting a tattoo. I've wanted one for years. I had decided to get one for my thirtieth birthday, but two years later my skin has yet to be touched by a needle. I still want one, but there are so many factors to consider:

~~What if I turn out to be allergic to the ink? I would so not be surprised.

~~I work with international students. What if having a tattoo offends them and compromises the trusting relationship I try to hard to build with them?

~~The designs I am considering will not fit anywhere where I would be able to see them. Do I rethink the design, or the location?

~~My husband is not crazy about this idea. Do I respect his preferences, or go ahead and do something to my body that he will have to confront every day?

~~How will I explain to my kids why I can get a tattoo but they can't draw on their hands with magic marker? More to the point, how will I explain the healing process without scaring them and revealing that I will actually go through pain in order to look a certain way?

~~Is this really something I want to spend money on? Does it really reflect my spending values?

~~Not knowing any tattoo artists personally, and not having a design on paper to go in with, how can I be sure I'll be happy with what I get?

~~The big one--why do I want a tattoo so badly? Am I trying for a personality upgrade? Do I want people to think I'm edgy? Do I want to mark a significant revelation and/or period in my life?


I have to be at peace before I get this done. And yet, there is no way to know how I will feel about it until I do it. Irrevocably.

Although I know this is ultimately my decision, I would love reader response on this one.

(Check out my new Pinterest board: Tattoo Ideas!)