The Gratitude Project: Day 18: Honoring the Inside/Outside Me
August 9th 2008 02:25
I hear often how folks have these ah ha moments when they realize that they are not ugly. It strikes me how common that seems to be. So many folks who have expressed either shock at the realization that they were actually seen as beautiful, handsome or arousing to others, or their fears about other’s criticism of their appearance.
Beautiful people appear to enjoy an image-based and/or financially-based prestige which enhances their aura of success, power, and beauty. My guess is that the pressure to maintain this is relentless. Everyone is always telling you to do more….exercising, plastic surgery, or calorie restriction. But just look at the pages of Vogue magazine, there you will see how serious they are about extreme-thin, glorified and extolled in luxurious full color -- the girlish femurs, humeri and sinews of high-paid models all on display. As America fattens, fashion narrows. Because it is elite -- just like the corset. And that is why the Voguish classes are deadly serious about retaining their "stays" -- the ones within.
One of the “stays” is the strive for perfection. We struggle to meet an ideal, to conform to what we believe constitutes attractiveness. We’re overweight, we’re underweight. We have wrinkles; we have stretch marks, scars and cellulite. We paint our faces; color our hair, wear the perfect outfit, slather body creams and lotions on our skin. We shave, we pluck, and we wax. Our legs are too long, too short, and too flabby. Our hands are too large, too small, and too rough. We fight our imperfections daily - whether for others or for ourselves. When we did we stop appreciating that our imperfections are what make us human?
I have noticed that one is described in two ways in the world in relation to appearance. You’re either physically hot, or you have a nice personality. You don’t get both. It’s like people have this filter--they simply can’t see both at once. Or, when on the rare occasion both seem to manage to come through, you hear stupid things like, “The best thing about him/her is that one is gorgeous, but he/she's so nice/smart/etc.—and has no idea how hot he/she is. It is so stupid that people assume that because you’re physically beautiful, you have to be empty of positive personality traits. And, of course, conversely, if you have positive personality traits, you can’t be beautiful. They don’t go together.
I’ve recognized a weird phenomenon in myself of late. Throughout my life, when folks have told me I’m pretty, I tended (well, still tend) to think of myself as “cute” at best (a word/concept which I hate), but really the kind of darker, more ethnic looking girl. I am “the sidekick” or the one who makes the insightful comments. You know, the kind of girl who, when you’re setting a friend up on a date with, you mention she has a “nice personality” by way of an apology for her not being hotter. OUCH!
Meanwhile, having said this, I have these weird epiphany moments of looking back at old pictures. In my 20s, I found a photo of myself at about 14 or 15 and was shocked. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. In the photo I looked…well, stunning, really. I didn’t recognize myself as that at all when I was 15. And as a 20-something looking at that photo, I remember thinking, “If only I’d realized then how beautiful I was…" And then I went along in my 20s the same way I did in my teens. I always thought I was ordinary and I just wouldn’t allow myself to believe I was anything too special or especially alluring. Now I’m in my 40s. And I look back at photos of myself when I was in my 30s and have the same shock of recognition. And again, I think, “If only I’d realized...” Why is it that anyone who expresses the opinion that our body or face was beautiful to be highly suspect. Maybe we think they could only see that, and wouldn’t be interested in the rest. Maybe we worry that if Iwe allow ourselves to we are physically pretty, it meant no one would believe we have any substance behind it.
I think of the power we would have had, feeling confident in both our bodies and soul. In knowing it wasn’t arrogant to be both beautiful inside and out—of knowing each fed the other—and that it was okay to be proud of it. I strive to appreciate how beautiful I am from a present perspective, not only in the past. I keep changing with each decade. And with each change, I continue to think it’s making me less of what I was, and it’s too late to catch up to how I should have felt about myself.I really don’t want to be 50-something and thinking I wasted my 40s not allowing myself to feel I’m everything I really am. That I’m inside/out beautiful, like everyone else. I am trying at the moment to be content to do what I can with what I have and let the world take care of itself. Live my life in the peace of having conquered the fear of not knowing what I “missed”. I want to come home to myself with regard to my appearance. I know that my appearance will change over time. And instead of fighting change, surely I should be embracing it. Taking strength from my flaws and appreciating that my weathered skin represents my life. I know that every line tells a story, reminding me of something I do not want to forget. They mean nothing to anyone else.
Beautiful people appear to enjoy an image-based and/or financially-based prestige which enhances their aura of success, power, and beauty. My guess is that the pressure to maintain this is relentless. Everyone is always telling you to do more….exercising, plastic surgery, or calorie restriction. But just look at the pages of Vogue magazine, there you will see how serious they are about extreme-thin, glorified and extolled in luxurious full color -- the girlish femurs, humeri and sinews of high-paid models all on display. As America fattens, fashion narrows. Because it is elite -- just like the corset. And that is why the Voguish classes are deadly serious about retaining their "stays" -- the ones within.
One of the “stays” is the strive for perfection. We struggle to meet an ideal, to conform to what we believe constitutes attractiveness. We’re overweight, we’re underweight. We have wrinkles; we have stretch marks, scars and cellulite. We paint our faces; color our hair, wear the perfect outfit, slather body creams and lotions on our skin. We shave, we pluck, and we wax. Our legs are too long, too short, and too flabby. Our hands are too large, too small, and too rough. We fight our imperfections daily - whether for others or for ourselves. When we did we stop appreciating that our imperfections are what make us human?
I have noticed that one is described in two ways in the world in relation to appearance. You’re either physically hot, or you have a nice personality. You don’t get both. It’s like people have this filter--they simply can’t see both at once. Or, when on the rare occasion both seem to manage to come through, you hear stupid things like, “The best thing about him/her is that one is gorgeous, but he/she's so nice/smart/etc.—and has no idea how hot he/she is. It is so stupid that people assume that because you’re physically beautiful, you have to be empty of positive personality traits. And, of course, conversely, if you have positive personality traits, you can’t be beautiful. They don’t go together.
I’ve recognized a weird phenomenon in myself of late. Throughout my life, when folks have told me I’m pretty, I tended (well, still tend) to think of myself as “cute” at best (a word/concept which I hate), but really the kind of darker, more ethnic looking girl. I am “the sidekick” or the one who makes the insightful comments. You know, the kind of girl who, when you’re setting a friend up on a date with, you mention she has a “nice personality” by way of an apology for her not being hotter. OUCH!
Meanwhile, having said this, I have these weird epiphany moments of looking back at old pictures. In my 20s, I found a photo of myself at about 14 or 15 and was shocked. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. In the photo I looked…well, stunning, really. I didn’t recognize myself as that at all when I was 15. And as a 20-something looking at that photo, I remember thinking, “If only I’d realized then how beautiful I was…" And then I went along in my 20s the same way I did in my teens. I always thought I was ordinary and I just wouldn’t allow myself to believe I was anything too special or especially alluring. Now I’m in my 40s. And I look back at photos of myself when I was in my 30s and have the same shock of recognition. And again, I think, “If only I’d realized...” Why is it that anyone who expresses the opinion that our body or face was beautiful to be highly suspect. Maybe we think they could only see that, and wouldn’t be interested in the rest. Maybe we worry that if Iwe allow ourselves to we are physically pretty, it meant no one would believe we have any substance behind it.
I think of the power we would have had, feeling confident in both our bodies and soul. In knowing it wasn’t arrogant to be both beautiful inside and out—of knowing each fed the other—and that it was okay to be proud of it. I strive to appreciate how beautiful I am from a present perspective, not only in the past. I keep changing with each decade. And with each change, I continue to think it’s making me less of what I was, and it’s too late to catch up to how I should have felt about myself.I really don’t want to be 50-something and thinking I wasted my 40s not allowing myself to feel I’m everything I really am. That I’m inside/out beautiful, like everyone else. I am trying at the moment to be content to do what I can with what I have and let the world take care of itself. Live my life in the peace of having conquered the fear of not knowing what I “missed”. I want to come home to myself with regard to my appearance. I know that my appearance will change over time. And instead of fighting change, surely I should be embracing it. Taking strength from my flaws and appreciating that my weathered skin represents my life. I know that every line tells a story, reminding me of something I do not want to forget. They mean nothing to anyone else.
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Comment by Lilla
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
Hahahahha too true.. I can remember doing this when iw as 30, when a photo of when I was about 20 dropped out of the back of a book ... and I am sure when we do all end up looking back on those 40-something photo's we'll have the same reaction. As my friend always says, better own it now girlfriend!
(the wisdumb of age) *chuckle* now if only we can remember what we were passionate about when we were teenagers, you know the totally impractical thing we most wanted to do most ... which was squished out of us by ever well-meaning parents and loved ones, desperate to imbue their values upon us... aah, now I remember ... sounds like fun now I can...
Living the dream.
Lilla ...
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
As my friend always says, better own it now girlfriend!
Can I use this phrase? It is so great!
Wisdumb? HAHAHAHA!
*chuckle* now if only we can remember what we were passionate about when we were teenagers, you know the totally impractical thing we most wanted to do most ... which was squished out of us by ever well-meaning parents and loved ones, desperate to imbue their values upon us... aah, now I remember ... sounds like fun now I can...
Oh you are so right there! Thanks so much for taking the time to stop by my place! Always a pleasure!
Mis
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Ah the wise words of older, wiser women... I lap them up and listen with glee... and then continue along my same old path because, ya know, I`m in my 20`s and KNOW EVERYTHING!
40 seems to be the decade of real self-discovery, when everything seems to 'click'. I look forward to it.. and the next decade of trying to find all the parts so that when I`m 40 they will do just that
Power to ya sister, MUCHO POWERERO,
from one ugly duckling to a swan!
Ash
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Ah the wise words of older, wiser women... I lap them up and listen with glee... and then continue along my same old path because, ya know, I`m in my 20`s and KNOW EVERYTHING!
40 seems to be the decade of real self-discovery, when everything seems to 'click'. I look forward to it.. and the next decade of trying to find all the parts so that when I`m 40 they will do just that
Power to ya sister, MUCHO POWERERO,
from one ugly duckling to a swan!
Ash
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Ah the wise words of older, wiser women... I lap them up and listen with glee... and then continue along my same old path because, ya know, I`m in my 20`s and KNOW EVERYTHING!
40 seems to be the decade of real self-discovery, when everything seems to 'click'. I look forward to it.. and the next decade of trying to find all the parts so that when I`m 40 they will do just that
Power to ya sister, MUCHO POWERERO,
from one ugly duckling to a swan!
Ash
Comment by Anonymous
Ah the wise words of older, wiser women... I lap them up and listen with glee... and then continue along my same old path because, ya know, I`m in my 20`s and KNOW EVERYTHING!
40 seems to be the decade of real self-discovery, when everything seems to 'click'. I look forward to it.. and the next decade of trying to find all the parts so that when I`m 40 they will do just that
Power to ya sister, MUCHO POWERERO,
from one ugly duckling to a swan!
Ash
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
My kitchen table is full of scratches because I never bothered to cover it.
My friend made a comment that every scratch is a memory.
I'm heading towards my mid 30's and those wrinkles are becoming a little more prominent every year. So I'll look at them like the scratches on my kitchen table. Every one is a memory.
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
40 seems to be the decade of real self-discovery, when everything seems to 'click'. I look forward to it.. and the next decade of trying to find all the parts so that when I`m 40 they will do just that
You are so right about this. I have really enjoyed my 40s so much! Much self realization but I will say some of it difficult indeed!
I am sure your forties will be rockin!
Mis
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
I adore the table metaphor! It is so nice to see you!
I am sure your forties will be fabulous!
Mis