Here’s the situation:  I cried at the orthodontist office once.  In front of him, the hygienists and the surrounding 12 year olds, all because my smile was not exactly how I would like it.  Oh yeah, this was like a month ago…

Inner Beauty, Schminner Beauty

I was a late bloomer.  I’m talking, late.  My awkward stage started around 4 years old and lasted well until I was 23.  As a kid, we didn’t have a lot of money and my mom was crafty, so for years I wore homemade clothes, usually from fabrics found in the bargain bin (which are the ugliest fabrics they make!).  I needed glasses starting in grade 2 and my mom doesn’t wear make up, so that was something I had to teach myself through trial and error, because there were no YouTube how-to videos when I was a teen – there was no internet!  Boys were not interested in me in junior high or high school; they always wanted one of my pretty friends and I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 19 or my first official DTR boyfriend until I think, 23.

Through those awkward years I absorbed a lot of subconscious messages.  The main one: the most important thing to guys is physical beauty.  Some of the messages were less subconscious and more verbal.  I had a crush on a guy and his best friend politely told me “I don’t think you have a chance, you’re not really his type.”, which we all know actually means, he’s not attracted to you.  Another crush’s friend told me how the guy wouldn’t date me because “he only dates models.”

I was adamant for many years that “I shouldn’t need to conform to society’s standard of beauty and have long hair and contacts in order to be attractive“, but when I finally came out on the other side of the awkward stage and began attracting men, it was because I grew long hair and got contacts.  Thus, confirming the message that physical beauty was the most important thing.  Since my first taste of finally feeling/being attractive, I swore I would never go back and so began the quest to perfect myself.

You’re Not Ugly, Just Poor

You can change pretty much anything about yourself for the right amount of money and my motto is: if I can afford it, I’m doing it!  And I have.  It started with growing my hair and getting contacts and has been simple things like working out, being blonde, changing my make up, updating my wardrobe.  Then it evolved.  I had electrolysis to get rid of unwanted hair and microblading to give me wanted “hair” (what we women won’t do!).  I got Invisalign a few years ago and did an additional 6 months of refinement trays last fall to try and get one tooth straighter.  ONE TOOTH!  In turn, it shifted my bite and in a few weeks I start another month+ of refinements to adjust that!  I looked into laser eye surgery, which I’m not a candidate for unless I decide to go with an implantable contact lens and I even looked into rhinoplasty, but I can’t afford it…and if you’ve ever watched a surgery, it’s hor·ri·fy·ing!

Eyes on the “Prize”

An ex and I used to debate whether I would get done up for myself or to impress others.  Here’s what you should know about me.  I am not a natural beauty and I can only handle seeing my bare-faced reflection in the mirror for so long.  24 hours is plenty.  Even if I have no reason to put make up on for a few days and I won’t be seeing anyone, around day 2, it’s going on, just so that I can feel attractive!

I’ve been reading a book my friend lent me and timely enough, the other night I came across a chapter about perfection and who we do it for.

It is deeply baked within our feminine history to be favored, as a woman, based on our look, status or dowry.  Back in the day, if you were the more beautiful woman, you got the man.  If your family had the riches, you got the man.  If your family was in a higher echelon, you got the man.  And the man was the prize; he provided for you, gave you children and made you “worthy”.

– Cara Alwill Leyba, Like She Owns the Place

I always want to look my best and when I look my best, I feel my best and when I feel my best, I’m my most confident self, so I will continue to defend that I get done up for myself.  However…there’s also no denying an underlying incentive!

Hey There Delilah

I’d never considered just how deep the roots of those messages about physical beauty went until I found myself crying at the orthodontist over already perfect teeth.  Then this week, I had to cut my hair.  In all my years of bleached hair and hot irons, I’ve never experienced a “breakage cut” like the one I arrived to my stylist with.  I knew I was going to have to cut off some decent length in order to make it even and it was a pretty big deal to me.

I’ve often joked that my hair is my only redeeming quality and while I know that’s not true, I feel like Samson; it gives me strength.  It is my identity.  I’m the girl with the long hair or the friend with the great hair.  I’ve even been told by strangers that I’m #hairgoals.  My hair gives me a little something to set me apart and it’s usually the first thing to turn a man’s head.  I’ve actually never thought it was anything more than just my hair that’s attracted men, so I’ve always feared if I cut it, I will just be an average, overlooked girl.  For me, cutting my hair symbolizes giving up.  Letting myself go.  Succumbing to being a spinster.  Even worse, what if this breakage turns out to be age or hormones and I can’t grow it back anymore like I once could and I have to keep cutting it shorter and shorter and then I look like 19 year old me again?  Gross!  Where will my strength come from then?!

Welcome to the irrational panic of someone in pursuit of perfection.

Outer Beauty, Schmouter Beauty?

I now fully understand these women who get too much plastic surgery and end up looking like a cat.  I’m sure that was never their original intention.  They probably started out just like me; wanting to improve themselves, little by little.  Then one day, it was one procedure too far.  We can try all we want to perfect our flaws and even though the outside might be disguised, it’s obviously something much deeper and internal that needs the work.  It’s a heart issue.  So where you do draw the line and decide to be content?  How do you go from feeling like maybe just one more tweak will help you achieve whatever your “prize” is, to loving yourself, just as you are?

“You can lift your eyelids, but it can’t lift that little cloud of pessimism that hovers over you.”

– Dr. Frasier Crane, Frasier, S1E18

I don’t think the drive to want to improve ourselves is entirely bad.  When focused correctly, it’s that drive that helps us set (and keep) goals and encourages us to make changes that benefit the health of our lives; emotionally, financially, spiritually, etc.  So maybe the next time we (or maybe it’s just me?) get lost in the downward spiral of perfection, we should consider that we are our own prize and the next tweak we might need to make is a heart transplant.  If that’s not enough to convince you, then you can always tell yourself 3 little words from the same book I mentioned before: “Perfection is Bull****.”