I have never felt so conspicuous. People stopped what they were doing to stare at me. They were out swimming in the ocean and they grouped together, pointing and coming closer. And here, people don't look away if you catch them staring. They hold that gaze.
I tried not to let it bother me, but I ended up hiding in my room more than I wanted to. My husband told me they were staring because I'm so beautiful. (Nice one, honey.) And that's what friends and family tell me. But there is this element of abnormality that people are taken by, and I can't pretend it isn't there. I myself have stared at people who have lost limbs or have skin conditions, not thinking they are "freaks" but just captivated by something so different than what I experience in my own body. And now I am one of those people. I can't hold it against anyone who stares. Of course they will stare. I am not normal.
I know this will make many of you question "What is normal, anyway?" But we have to admit that there are norms when it comes to human appearance. There are healthy bodies, and there are bodies that have obviously gone awry. When we see something that testifies to un-health, we are bothered by that. It's a normal human reaction.
Maybe with increased exposure we can come to a place of peace about the variations we see in bodies. But in a place where appearances really matter, like the place I find myself living in now, it really just stinks to be the freak.
Again, my well-intentioned husband tells me to strut when I see people staring. But I want to crumple up and disappear. It's ironic, because in high school I felt so plain and unnoticed that I would sit at home and daydream for hours about being in the spotlight somehow.
Well, I made it into the spotlight, like it or not. So I know I need to move from a place of wounded pride to a placed of weathered pride, the kind of pride that says "I have learned that I am beautiful because I was created and I am known by my Creator".
But how to react to the stares? Sometimes I want to make a face at people who are staring. Sometimes I want to act more distraught than I am, just to shame them. These are honest, gut-level reactions I'm confessing. Usually, I pretend I don't see people staring. I just feel the heat rise in my face and quietly suffer from embarrassment. But maybe I should learn to smile graciously and welcome the stares. Maybe then people will see past the bald head to the character being formed. Maybe then the next time they see someone else with a stare-worthy feature they will be gentle, remembering that they once saw a bald woman whose "abnormality" made her tender, not bitter.
This journey is a long one.
Showing posts with label self image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self image. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Circus lady
I'm about to make you jealous. Ready? Imagine this: a peaceful drive through beautiful green palm trees, the ocean at your side; sipping an iced latte poolside as you gaze out over a crystal clear ocean reef; the sun beaming down as you close your eyes and hear the sounds of kids laughing and splashing. Sound relaxing?
It should have been. And I should be accustomed to people staring at my bald head by now. But I've never experienced the staring like I did this past weekend when I was on a mini-vacation.
First, there was the drive. It's summer here in the Philippines, our car is black, I want absolutely nothing covering my head when I'm out. So there I am, sitting in the passenger seat, in the privacy of my own car, bald. We pull up behind a small pickup truck with half a dozen girls riding in the back. One is awake, the rest are sleeping. I already know she will see me and stare, but I'm not prepared for her to actually wake everyone else up by shaking them, just so they can all get a glimpse of me, the "freak". I ask my husband to pass the truck illegally just so I can get away from the gawking.
Then we find ourselves at this great hotel with beautiful ocean views. I am ready to read a book, relax, and watch my kids have the time of their life on the water slide...but first I have to walk through the grounds and find a place by the pool. This is a picture of that day:
I have never felt so conspicuous. People stopped what they were doing to stare at me. They were out swimming in the ocean and they grouped together, pointing and coming closer. And here, people don't look away if you catch them staring. They hold that gaze.
I tried not to let it bother me, but I ended up hiding in my room more than I wanted to. My husband told me they were staring because I'm so beautiful. (Nice one, honey.) And that's what friends and family tell me. But there is this element of abnormality that people are taken by, and I can't pretend it isn't there. I myself have stared at people who have lost limbs or have skin conditions, not thinking they are "freaks" but just captivated by something so different than what I experience in my own body. And now I am one of those people. I can't hold it against anyone who stares. Of course they will stare. I am not normal.
I know this will make many of you question "What is normal, anyway?" But we have to admit that there are norms when it comes to human appearance. There are healthy bodies, and there are bodies that have obviously gone awry. When we see something that testifies to un-health, we are bothered by that. It's a normal human reaction.
Maybe with increased exposure we can come to a place of peace about the variations we see in bodies. But in a place where appearances really matter, like the place I find myself living in now, it really just stinks to be the freak.
Again, my well-intentioned husband tells me to strut when I see people staring. But I want to crumple up and disappear. It's ironic, because in high school I felt so plain and unnoticed that I would sit at home and daydream for hours about being in the spotlight somehow.
Well, I made it into the spotlight, like it or not. So I know I need to move from a place of wounded pride to a placed of weathered pride, the kind of pride that says "I have learned that I am beautiful because I was created and I am known by my Creator".
But how to react to the stares? Sometimes I want to make a face at people who are staring. Sometimes I want to act more distraught than I am, just to shame them. These are honest, gut-level reactions I'm confessing. Usually, I pretend I don't see people staring. I just feel the heat rise in my face and quietly suffer from embarrassment. But maybe I should learn to smile graciously and welcome the stares. Maybe then people will see past the bald head to the character being formed. Maybe then the next time they see someone else with a stare-worthy feature they will be gentle, remembering that they once saw a bald woman whose "abnormality" made her tender, not bitter.
This journey is a long one.
I have never felt so conspicuous. People stopped what they were doing to stare at me. They were out swimming in the ocean and they grouped together, pointing and coming closer. And here, people don't look away if you catch them staring. They hold that gaze.
I tried not to let it bother me, but I ended up hiding in my room more than I wanted to. My husband told me they were staring because I'm so beautiful. (Nice one, honey.) And that's what friends and family tell me. But there is this element of abnormality that people are taken by, and I can't pretend it isn't there. I myself have stared at people who have lost limbs or have skin conditions, not thinking they are "freaks" but just captivated by something so different than what I experience in my own body. And now I am one of those people. I can't hold it against anyone who stares. Of course they will stare. I am not normal.
I know this will make many of you question "What is normal, anyway?" But we have to admit that there are norms when it comes to human appearance. There are healthy bodies, and there are bodies that have obviously gone awry. When we see something that testifies to un-health, we are bothered by that. It's a normal human reaction.
Maybe with increased exposure we can come to a place of peace about the variations we see in bodies. But in a place where appearances really matter, like the place I find myself living in now, it really just stinks to be the freak.
Again, my well-intentioned husband tells me to strut when I see people staring. But I want to crumple up and disappear. It's ironic, because in high school I felt so plain and unnoticed that I would sit at home and daydream for hours about being in the spotlight somehow.
Well, I made it into the spotlight, like it or not. So I know I need to move from a place of wounded pride to a placed of weathered pride, the kind of pride that says "I have learned that I am beautiful because I was created and I am known by my Creator".
But how to react to the stares? Sometimes I want to make a face at people who are staring. Sometimes I want to act more distraught than I am, just to shame them. These are honest, gut-level reactions I'm confessing. Usually, I pretend I don't see people staring. I just feel the heat rise in my face and quietly suffer from embarrassment. But maybe I should learn to smile graciously and welcome the stares. Maybe then people will see past the bald head to the character being formed. Maybe then the next time they see someone else with a stare-worthy feature they will be gentle, remembering that they once saw a bald woman whose "abnormality" made her tender, not bitter.
This journey is a long one.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Fools Rush In
For the past month or so, I have been looking into permanent makeup. I have had so many people get excited for me and encourage me to go for it. So, I made an appointment and went in today.
Before I tell you how it turned out, I want to dig into the reasons for doing it. The main impetus was that I'm just tired of being ugly. There, I said it. I don't feel ugly during the day. I only feel ugly at night when I have to take off all the makeup, and then in the morning before I put my face back on. I'm so disgusted with how I look at those times that I can't look my husband in the eye. I can't post before and after photos of makeup because I can't bear the thought of people seeing the "before" and thinking, "Wow, she looks weird/sick/bad/etc.".
Another reason for taking this step is because I hate worrying about my eyebrows rubbing off if I wear a hat, go swimming, sweat, forget about them and scratch an itch, get stressed and rub my temples, etc. I thought permanent makeup would solve a lot of those problems.
So, I went in today with a friend and spent an hour getting the brows drawn on. Here's what my lady came up with:
But...
When it came time to fire up the machine, she noted that her power cord was broken. I was told I would have to reschedule.
Weirdness...she knew the cord was about to go and had ordered a new one that was due to come in next week, but didn't reschedule my appointment, nor did she check the machine before we got started. I will not be going back there.
Needless to say, I was horribly disappointed. I had finally gotten myself mentally prepared to do this, and it didn't happen.
But if I'm honest, I have to admit that I have had misgivings throughout this whole process. I am afraid of getting stuck with a shape that I end up disliking after a week. I'm afraid they will be crooked. I'm afraid they will look really...fake. And truthfully, when I went in to this place today I saw a photo book of this woman's work (which was not shown to me last week at my consultation) and I didn't like what I saw. It didn't look like what I had seen on the webpage. I had decided today to just do eyeliner, but I had her draw the eyebrows on anyway. She reassured me about the realistic look she could create (which I did see after all in one photo).
But all along I have not really believed that this would actually happen. It's just not me. I may look at other places; I already called one guy whose website I loved, but he was a conceited jerk over the phone. But in the end I will probably decide to just get eyeliner done and wait on the brows. I was going to "go for it" before I lost my nerve, but now I'm glad I am forced to take a step back and think about what I really want. I like changing the shape and color of my brows. I need to do more research on artists in the area.
Until I take the next steps, I have to accept who I am, what I look like, and what my husband says about how he sees me. This self-image stuff goes so deep, y'all.
Before I tell you how it turned out, I want to dig into the reasons for doing it. The main impetus was that I'm just tired of being ugly. There, I said it. I don't feel ugly during the day. I only feel ugly at night when I have to take off all the makeup, and then in the morning before I put my face back on. I'm so disgusted with how I look at those times that I can't look my husband in the eye. I can't post before and after photos of makeup because I can't bear the thought of people seeing the "before" and thinking, "Wow, she looks weird/sick/bad/etc.".
Another reason for taking this step is because I hate worrying about my eyebrows rubbing off if I wear a hat, go swimming, sweat, forget about them and scratch an itch, get stressed and rub my temples, etc. I thought permanent makeup would solve a lot of those problems.
So, I went in today with a friend and spent an hour getting the brows drawn on. Here's what my lady came up with:
But...
When it came time to fire up the machine, she noted that her power cord was broken. I was told I would have to reschedule.
Weirdness...she knew the cord was about to go and had ordered a new one that was due to come in next week, but didn't reschedule my appointment, nor did she check the machine before we got started. I will not be going back there.
Needless to say, I was horribly disappointed. I had finally gotten myself mentally prepared to do this, and it didn't happen.
But if I'm honest, I have to admit that I have had misgivings throughout this whole process. I am afraid of getting stuck with a shape that I end up disliking after a week. I'm afraid they will be crooked. I'm afraid they will look really...fake. And truthfully, when I went in to this place today I saw a photo book of this woman's work (which was not shown to me last week at my consultation) and I didn't like what I saw. It didn't look like what I had seen on the webpage. I had decided today to just do eyeliner, but I had her draw the eyebrows on anyway. She reassured me about the realistic look she could create (which I did see after all in one photo).
But all along I have not really believed that this would actually happen. It's just not me. I may look at other places; I already called one guy whose website I loved, but he was a conceited jerk over the phone. But in the end I will probably decide to just get eyeliner done and wait on the brows. I was going to "go for it" before I lost my nerve, but now I'm glad I am forced to take a step back and think about what I really want. I like changing the shape and color of my brows. I need to do more research on artists in the area.
Until I take the next steps, I have to accept who I am, what I look like, and what my husband says about how he sees me. This self-image stuff goes so deep, y'all.
Monday, March 10, 2014
I'm here, I'm staying
I went into a dressing room today and had a minor shock when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Washed out face, dark circles under my eyes, eyeliner rubbed off, wrinkles around my eyes and mouth that I'm sure weren't there yesterday. The lighting is never gentle in fitting rooms. Maybe it works for the clothes, but it does nothing for the face. I thought I was looking at my ghost.
And then I got over it! Mind you, I was in one of those stores, and picking out one of those pairs of jeans, where I would normally feel like I didn't belong if I didn't look totally hot already when I walked in the door.
But today I acknowledged the fact that I am older than I used to be, I'm a mother of two, I've had some minor health issues lately, and I'm at the tail end (I hope) of a harsher winter than I have endured in a long time. Maybe ever.
And I want a cute pair of jeans, no matter what I look like in that damn mirror.
Of course my skin will not look like a Cover Girl ad. Sadly, I don't carry an airbrush in my car. I still have every right to be in a hip store. And I accepted that today without shame.
I think this is a good step. Feeling like I deserve to be where I am. That I don't have to "fit the part" in order to allow myself to fully participate.
Tell me--where are those places that make you doubt your worth? Next time you go to one, take a minute to acknowledge the imagined "flaws" that feel very real to you, accept that you have them, and then let those thoughts pass right on through. Do what you went there to do.
And then I got over it! Mind you, I was in one of those stores, and picking out one of those pairs of jeans, where I would normally feel like I didn't belong if I didn't look totally hot already when I walked in the door.
But today I acknowledged the fact that I am older than I used to be, I'm a mother of two, I've had some minor health issues lately, and I'm at the tail end (I hope) of a harsher winter than I have endured in a long time. Maybe ever.
And I want a cute pair of jeans, no matter what I look like in that damn mirror.
Of course my skin will not look like a Cover Girl ad. Sadly, I don't carry an airbrush in my car. I still have every right to be in a hip store. And I accepted that today without shame.
I think this is a good step. Feeling like I deserve to be where I am. That I don't have to "fit the part" in order to allow myself to fully participate.
Tell me--where are those places that make you doubt your worth? Next time you go to one, take a minute to acknowledge the imagined "flaws" that feel very real to you, accept that you have them, and then let those thoughts pass right on through. Do what you went there to do.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Shifting
Maybe it's boredom, maybe it's maturity, maybe it's self-love. Whatever it is, I feel a shift in how I see myself--at least for now, and at least at home.
I have gotten so fed up with my scarves. The tying, the constant repositioning, the annoying sense of restriction that comes with constantly carrying a pile of fabric on my head. When I'm at home, I don't want to wear anything on my head.
The problem is, I am more self-conscious in front of my husband than I am in front of anyone else. But lately, I have watched myself in the mirror as I take my scarf off, and I end up liking how my bald head looks even better than the scarf. This is a new thing.
Baldness and fashion. I think part of this shift in thinking is that I'm not just seeing my bald head, but I'm seeing how my bald head works or doesn't work with my outfit. My theory? Summer fashions need scarves and hats because there is already so much skin showing. But my bald head looks sleek and daring when I'm wearing winter clothes.
Here's what I'm wearing today:
Not bad, not bad. But when I take the scarf off? Look:
Pop! Pow! You can see my earrings, my neck looks sexy rather than flabby, and my eyes get more light!
Okay, maybe this wasn't really a good example, since I happen to love how that scarf looks with this shirt. But take my word for it--I have looked great bald in so many of my winter outfits.
I'm pretty proud that I can write this today. Tomorrow I may want to cry about having no hair again, but today I like my bald look.
I have gotten so fed up with my scarves. The tying, the constant repositioning, the annoying sense of restriction that comes with constantly carrying a pile of fabric on my head. When I'm at home, I don't want to wear anything on my head.
The problem is, I am more self-conscious in front of my husband than I am in front of anyone else. But lately, I have watched myself in the mirror as I take my scarf off, and I end up liking how my bald head looks even better than the scarf. This is a new thing.
Baldness and fashion. I think part of this shift in thinking is that I'm not just seeing my bald head, but I'm seeing how my bald head works or doesn't work with my outfit. My theory? Summer fashions need scarves and hats because there is already so much skin showing. But my bald head looks sleek and daring when I'm wearing winter clothes.
Here's what I'm wearing today:
Pop! Pow! You can see my earrings, my neck looks sexy rather than flabby, and my eyes get more light!
Okay, maybe this wasn't really a good example, since I happen to love how that scarf looks with this shirt. But take my word for it--I have looked great bald in so many of my winter outfits.
I'm pretty proud that I can write this today. Tomorrow I may want to cry about having no hair again, but today I like my bald look.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
The Contentment Challenge--Day 5. The "selfie".
Last night I was in a local high school taking my daughter to swimming lessons at the pool there. I saw a poster on a wall for a "self-confidence" group for girls. They had posted a challenge called #ilovemyselfie. The challenge, which I will adopt as my challenge for today, is to tweet/post/Instagram a selfie with no edits or filters. A natural self-portrait.
This is actually a great challenge. And a really difficult one for me. Every selfie I've posted has been creatively styled so I can pass it off as art. So I decided to take this challenge.
I took several selfies trying to find one that I was okay with posting. And I wondered what it meant to post a "natural" selfie. Should I take off the eyeliner and eyebrows? Should I wear a scarf like I usually do, or should I go bald? I want to look natural, but I also don't want to post an unnecessarily downplayed picture of a woman who has put no effort into how she looks. I'm not sure that's "natural".
So here's the pick:
No makeup, the cap I wear under my scarves (call me crazy, but I don't go bald when it's 7 degrees outside), no photo finishing apps that color my lips or thin out my cheeks.
I'm trying really hard not to write more about this picture and just say "I love my selfie".
If you're interested in more perspective about the "selfie" phenomenon, read here.
This is actually a great challenge. And a really difficult one for me. Every selfie I've posted has been creatively styled so I can pass it off as art. So I decided to take this challenge.
I took several selfies trying to find one that I was okay with posting. And I wondered what it meant to post a "natural" selfie. Should I take off the eyeliner and eyebrows? Should I wear a scarf like I usually do, or should I go bald? I want to look natural, but I also don't want to post an unnecessarily downplayed picture of a woman who has put no effort into how she looks. I'm not sure that's "natural".
So here's the pick:
I'm trying really hard not to write more about this picture and just say "I love my selfie".
If you're interested in more perspective about the "selfie" phenomenon, read here.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
The Contentment Challenge--Day 4
Looking at photos of myself will never be easy. I have just accepted that. I remember the day my fiance and I got the proofs from our engagement "shoot". I had been so looking forward to seeing them, because I had felt so cute the day we went out. But when I saw the results, I remember being mortified that I had dared to think I would make a beautiful bride-to-be in pictures. I think I cried in my room and hid the proof binders for quite some time, hearing my fiance knock on the door because he wanted to show his family the pictures. I was so embarrassed. What I had imagined as a playful giggle at the time turned up in one photo as a wide guffaw that resembled something you would only see on a farm.
(Photo retrieved at http://www.fotothing.com/SomersetDreams/photo/a8b1e626dc3bb52571a34d3b77625be8/)
What I thought was a relaxed stance looked more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in the photos (I can only hope my posture has improved after that wake-up call). On and on the blows came. The pictures, through no fault of the photographer's, had not turned out the way I had imagined.
My pictures never do. A few years ago I had a friend of a friend take pictures of me in one of my favorite neighborhood spots...completely bald. It was a huge milestone for me (read my original post about my "unveiling" here.) But I similarly felt discouraged at my inability to look in pictures the way I imagine myself to look in real life.
So, today I choose some photos from that shoot to put on public display--and I choose to be content with the realities they depict.
Flaw I get hung up on: My earrings stick out like pirate hoops.
Reasons I am content: I have nice, long legs and a nice smile. Hoop earrings are made to stick out like that.
Flaws I get hung up on: One eye is smaller and squintier than the other. Major belly revealage. And those earrings...
Reasons I am content: I love that scarf. I love the angle of the horizon. I could be a shipping company owner here because I look confident and powerful.
Flaws I get hung up on: Oh, the blinding white orb that assaults my eyes. What a prominent skull. And the wrinkles abound. And the gums show forth.
Reasons I am content: I obviously really had fun doing this shoot. That's a smile I couldn't fake. And I really like that red jacket.
Flaws I get hung up on: Eyebrows are too manly. Freckles. Incongruence of dainty, feminine flowers juxtaposed with a bald cranium.
Reasons I am content: I love the light in my eyes. I love that I am standing in a lilac bush. Ah, I can smell them now...And I know each of those freckles. This is a familiar, intimate look at my face.
What I thought was a relaxed stance looked more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in the photos (I can only hope my posture has improved after that wake-up call). On and on the blows came. The pictures, through no fault of the photographer's, had not turned out the way I had imagined.
My pictures never do. A few years ago I had a friend of a friend take pictures of me in one of my favorite neighborhood spots...completely bald. It was a huge milestone for me (read my original post about my "unveiling" here.) But I similarly felt discouraged at my inability to look in pictures the way I imagine myself to look in real life.
So, today I choose some photos from that shoot to put on public display--and I choose to be content with the realities they depict.
Reasons I am content: I have nice, long legs and a nice smile. Hoop earrings are made to stick out like that.
Reasons I am content: I love that scarf. I love the angle of the horizon. I could be a shipping company owner here because I look confident and powerful.
Reasons I am content: I obviously really had fun doing this shoot. That's a smile I couldn't fake. And I really like that red jacket.
Reasons I am content: I love the light in my eyes. I love that I am standing in a lilac bush. Ah, I can smell them now...And I know each of those freckles. This is a familiar, intimate look at my face.
Flaws I get hung up on: That squinty eye again, those darn wrinkles, those big gums.
Reasons I am content: I am seldom seen laughing like this! I look healthy. I really love the color of my shirt.
So, there you have it. A set of photos that may or may not have been included in my original set. The process of choosing pictures was interesting. I wanted to pick photos that I cringed at initially, but I didn't want to choose photos that I have put in my "never see the light of day" folder. I didn't want to choose photos that I liked, because it would be harder to write about the flaws. Isn't that ridiculous?!
But really, this has been a good exercise. The longer I looked through these photos, the harder time I had choosing ones that I didn't feel good about.
You should try it. Look through that photos that make you cringe and find the reasons why you didn't toss them out.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Secret Selfie
I wore hair the other night. And then I posted a picture of it on Instagram, which also ended up on Facebook:
A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.
The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.
Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.
I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.
Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.
When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.
So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?
That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).
If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.
A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.
The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.
Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.
I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.
Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.
When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.
So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?
That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).
If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
All Dressed Up
How many of you feel like it's a waste to get dressed up if no one will see you? I get these nice work digs on, drive to work, sit in the tutoring center with no customers, and then drive home to change clothes. By the time my husband gets home, I'm "bald, sweatpants, food stains" mom. I will often stay in my work clothes until he gets home, no matter how uncomfortable I am. Then, of course, I end up getting taco sauce or vegetable oil on my nice clothes. But what's the point of looking nice if no one's looking?
Why can't I just be good enough for myself?
Here's my plan:
Step 1. I'm on the hunt for super cute lounging clothes that I can feel sexy in at home.
Step 2. Time to invest in more big, dangly earrings. They dress anything up!
Step 3. Sending pics of my fancy self to hubby at work? Why not?!
Step 4. Look in the mirror at work and say "Wow, you look really nice, honey." And believe it.
Step 5. Go to the grocery store in dumpy clothes whenever I can to break the habit of wondering what people, men in particular, think of how I look.
What would you do?
Why can't I just be good enough for myself?
Here's my plan:
Step 1. I'm on the hunt for super cute lounging clothes that I can feel sexy in at home.
Step 2. Time to invest in more big, dangly earrings. They dress anything up!
Step 3. Sending pics of my fancy self to hubby at work? Why not?!
Step 4. Look in the mirror at work and say "Wow, you look really nice, honey." And believe it.
Step 5. Go to the grocery store in dumpy clothes whenever I can to break the habit of wondering what people, men in particular, think of how I look.
What would you do?
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Worth 1,000 words
"You're so beautiful."
"You can really pull off the bald look."
"Bald girls are sexy."
All of these lines and more have been told to me at some point since the onset of my alopecia. You'd think by now that they would have sunk in.
The problem is, a picture is worth a thousand words. And my identity and definition of beauty have been shaped by millions of images that don't reflect the truth of the words people tell me. I don't think in words; I think in pictures.
Pictures like this:
The princess with the long, golden locks shining in the sunlight. The dashing rogue kissing her in all her feminine loveliness. Well, if that had been a bald princess, the "man in black" would probably have fallen off the tower as his hand slipped off her smooth scalp...
Or this:
The mother of all hot kissing scenes. Sadly, kissing in the rain is not sexy when you're a bald woman. If you're wearing a scarf, it turns into a sopping rag plastered on your head. You can't brush that away from a lady's face. If you're wearing a wig, you turn into a wet dog--PLUS, the netting underneath shows through. If you happen to be sans headcover in the rain, then a wet mack session would turn into a manual slip 'n' slide for your partner. Maybe that would be sexy...but it's unlikely.
Ah yes, this one:
It goes without saying that this is an impossible look for a bald woman to pull off. And a scarf or wig in the wind? Too precarious.
Countless, endless images that do not represent me, yet continue to define what I want my life to look like. When I kiss my husband, I look at us from the outside and I cringe. Can you imagine a man kissing a bald woman and it looking even remotely romantic? Probably not. That's because there are no images of that to get into our psyche.
So, I'm on a search for some new pictures. Here are a few I found:
Rosanna Savone, bald bride and author of liv.luhv.rahyt (See it and love it here).
Kylie, another beautiful bald bride (read her story here).
Stefania Ferrario, model (check out her page here).
Sandra Dubose-Gibson, Mrs. Black North Carolina 2011 (See the full story here).
The only image I could find of a man kissing a bald girl...we need to work on that.
And, finally, I will add what I can to this growing bank of images:
A bald woman and a mirror. Not usually seen together.
So--if you find anymore for me, send them to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com or post them to my Facebook page!
"You can really pull off the bald look."
"Bald girls are sexy."
All of these lines and more have been told to me at some point since the onset of my alopecia. You'd think by now that they would have sunk in.
The problem is, a picture is worth a thousand words. And my identity and definition of beauty have been shaped by millions of images that don't reflect the truth of the words people tell me. I don't think in words; I think in pictures.
Pictures like this:
The princess with the long, golden locks shining in the sunlight. The dashing rogue kissing her in all her feminine loveliness. Well, if that had been a bald princess, the "man in black" would probably have fallen off the tower as his hand slipped off her smooth scalp...
Or this:
The mother of all hot kissing scenes. Sadly, kissing in the rain is not sexy when you're a bald woman. If you're wearing a scarf, it turns into a sopping rag plastered on your head. You can't brush that away from a lady's face. If you're wearing a wig, you turn into a wet dog--PLUS, the netting underneath shows through. If you happen to be sans headcover in the rain, then a wet mack session would turn into a manual slip 'n' slide for your partner. Maybe that would be sexy...but it's unlikely.
Ah yes, this one:
It goes without saying that this is an impossible look for a bald woman to pull off. And a scarf or wig in the wind? Too precarious.
Countless, endless images that do not represent me, yet continue to define what I want my life to look like. When I kiss my husband, I look at us from the outside and I cringe. Can you imagine a man kissing a bald woman and it looking even remotely romantic? Probably not. That's because there are no images of that to get into our psyche.
So, I'm on a search for some new pictures. Here are a few I found:
Rosanna Savone, bald bride and author of liv.luhv.rahyt (See it and love it here).
Kylie, another beautiful bald bride (read her story here).
Stefania Ferrario, model (check out her page here).
Sandra Dubose-Gibson, Mrs. Black North Carolina 2011 (See the full story here).
The only image I could find of a man kissing a bald girl...we need to work on that.
And, finally, I will add what I can to this growing bank of images:
A bald woman and a mirror. Not usually seen together.
So--if you find anymore for me, send them to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com or post them to my Facebook page!
Saturday, September 14, 2013
What A Mess
I had a mommy moment tonight. I had to run out to the pharmacy this evening, and as I was strutting along in my electric blue scarf and T-shirt (my best color), I was feeling pretty good about the looks I was getting. Yes, I thought, I'm one hot momma.
Well, I didn't think that exactly. But I did feel pretty, confident, and young.
Then I happened to look down at my shirt (okay, I was trying to gauge how much I needed to suck in my chili-and-cornbread-belly so people wouldn't think it was a baby bump)--and I had to laugh.
I had big splatters of chili all over it. No wonder I was getting looks....
I have had more of those moments recently. I will be feeling good about how I look, and then I'll go into the bathroom and see that my scarf has gotten all crooked, or I accidentally rubbed the eyeliner off half of one eye, or I only have one earring...or, worst of all, I have some little tiny crust of something right at the tip of my nostril. And then I'm deflated.
But I think moments like these are incredibly important. When I saw what a mess I was tonight, I was reminded of the evening I spent watching my kids try something new for them (but an old family tradition I grew up with--cornbread in a glass of milk), and I knew where my place was. My place is not out in a singles bar or turning heads at a grocery store. It's in my home, eating chili and cornbread with my kids after a day of apple picking and wagon rides.
My place is walking along the lake shore on a blustery fall day, even if it means walking into work with a crooked scarf and crusty leftovers in my nostril.
We are real people. We are not poster images. When we walk to the pharmacy, we are telling the world a story about who we are and how we lived our lives that day. Tonight, I told people that I ate a big meal and didn't feel the need to change my messy clothes in order to please them. I told people that I spent the day outside and got a funny tan line from my scarf and sunglasses.
I bet people envied me.
What story will you tell when you walk out the door tomorrow?
Well, I didn't think that exactly. But I did feel pretty, confident, and young.
Then I happened to look down at my shirt (okay, I was trying to gauge how much I needed to suck in my chili-and-cornbread-belly so people wouldn't think it was a baby bump)--and I had to laugh.
I had big splatters of chili all over it. No wonder I was getting looks....
I have had more of those moments recently. I will be feeling good about how I look, and then I'll go into the bathroom and see that my scarf has gotten all crooked, or I accidentally rubbed the eyeliner off half of one eye, or I only have one earring...or, worst of all, I have some little tiny crust of something right at the tip of my nostril. And then I'm deflated.
But I think moments like these are incredibly important. When I saw what a mess I was tonight, I was reminded of the evening I spent watching my kids try something new for them (but an old family tradition I grew up with--cornbread in a glass of milk), and I knew where my place was. My place is not out in a singles bar or turning heads at a grocery store. It's in my home, eating chili and cornbread with my kids after a day of apple picking and wagon rides.
My place is walking along the lake shore on a blustery fall day, even if it means walking into work with a crooked scarf and crusty leftovers in my nostril.
We are real people. We are not poster images. When we walk to the pharmacy, we are telling the world a story about who we are and how we lived our lives that day. Tonight, I told people that I ate a big meal and didn't feel the need to change my messy clothes in order to please them. I told people that I spent the day outside and got a funny tan line from my scarf and sunglasses.
I bet people envied me.
What story will you tell when you walk out the door tomorrow?
Saturday, August 17, 2013
The Many Faces of Me
My dear uncle-in-law recently gave me the gift of sight.
At a recent family gathering, I saw people huddling over something and pointing, so naturally I was curious. As I got closer, I saw a picture of my face. And then another one. And another.
I took a minute to scan the page, and realized that every one of the hundred or so pictures I was looking at were of me. A dabbler in photography projects, my "uncle" had put together a collage of sorts out of head shots he took from my Facebook page. It was overwhelming at first. Also overwhelming was the fact that everyone had been looking at the page and picking out their favorites before I had even had a chance to see it.
But the more I looked, the more special it became to me. I have often cringed at the sight of many of these photos, but seeing them altogether was different. I was looking at a portrait of a young woman who has a good life. Each picture is a separate memory, but as a whole the pictures come together in this beautiful harmony of features. Rather than pick out my flaws, I'm forced to appreciate the many ways my face can look. I feel as if I can see myself the way others see me. This is a huge breakthrough. I don't know if this makes any sense, so I highly recommend doing a similar project to any of you who have a hard time looking at self portraits. I think you'll find beauty in "you in the context of you".
Here, I share it with you now.
At a recent family gathering, I saw people huddling over something and pointing, so naturally I was curious. As I got closer, I saw a picture of my face. And then another one. And another.
I took a minute to scan the page, and realized that every one of the hundred or so pictures I was looking at were of me. A dabbler in photography projects, my "uncle" had put together a collage of sorts out of head shots he took from my Facebook page. It was overwhelming at first. Also overwhelming was the fact that everyone had been looking at the page and picking out their favorites before I had even had a chance to see it.
But the more I looked, the more special it became to me. I have often cringed at the sight of many of these photos, but seeing them altogether was different. I was looking at a portrait of a young woman who has a good life. Each picture is a separate memory, but as a whole the pictures come together in this beautiful harmony of features. Rather than pick out my flaws, I'm forced to appreciate the many ways my face can look. I feel as if I can see myself the way others see me. This is a huge breakthrough. I don't know if this makes any sense, so I highly recommend doing a similar project to any of you who have a hard time looking at self portraits. I think you'll find beauty in "you in the context of you".
Here, I share it with you now.
Friday, June 28, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
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".
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".
Monday, June 24, 2013
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.
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.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
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)
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)
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
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)
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)
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
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.)
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.)
Thursday, June 13, 2013
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, Ã 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?
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, Ã 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?
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