It has been a long time since I have walked into a room and heads turned in awe. To be perfectly honest...that never happened to me. Although I never thought of myself as a beautiful, pretty or attractive woman, I was told by both men and women that I was attractive. . Somehow, I took that as a compliment and added it to my "they think I am acceptable" bag. However, I knew that it was the clothes that I had picked out, paid a great deal of money for and wore proudly, that made me acceptable to the general population. Now...I know the truth. It was my age. The younger I was the better looking I seemed to be to everyone.
Now, at sixty-five, I wear my clothes with an mature air of sophistication; however, no one notices but me. A very wise woman told me that this happens as a woman gets older. I don't remember hearing this before or maybe I didn't want to believe it. So in one day I did a study. I changed my outfits five times. Wore Mac makeup, applied as I had been shown by the Mac representative and really put a great deal of effort into looking "attractive". But no one noticed and I was invisible even to my partner. But I knew I was here. What to do? What to do? Was I really too old to be beautiful, pretty or attractive?
What had happened was that I bought the hype about a woman's beauty. And now I am returning it for a full refund. I thought that no one noticed me because of the surgery I had for salivary cancer that left my face with an odd shape and an indentation on the left side of my neck. After the surgery, when I looked into the mirror...looking back at me was a stranger. I cried and screamed and begged for my own face back. Everyone assured me that I looked different but fine. That word "fine"...watch out for it! It is a non-committal word meaning "I don't want to tell you the truth".
I no longer had the face that I had taken for granted and what I had was not what I wanted. It took me years to get use to the stranger in the mirror and I blamed myself for the lack of compliments coming my way. I hid myself with clothes that were styled in the Eileen Fisher mode... they hid my body but made me look modern and stylish. I wore big glasses and covered a great deal of my face with a haircut that tended to move forward. I was afraid to go to Sephora for a make-up consultation for fear of the reaction. One day I did go and the result was a great deal of sympathy and an attempt to cosmetically hide what couldn't be hidden...the physical changes to my face.
Today, and I really mean today, I have decided that I had it all wrong. I was allowing the fashion world and the entertainment industry to tell me what is acceptable and what is not. I had cancer five times. I am sixty-five. I was a principal. I am a good friend. I like to read, laugh, dance, do yoga and be kind to animals. I care about the world. I support Senator Obama. I do random acts of kindness. I use shopping bags to support the "Green" movement. I support the ASPCA and Move-On. I donate money to Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. I have a spiritual life. I like to learn. And I trust the world will someday be at peace and accept all of us. Now, this is real beauty as defined by me.
When I looked in the mirror today, I looked into my eyes and I gently told myself what I wanted to hear...you are beautiful and you are a child of God. Be proud of who you are....AMF
Now, at sixty-five, I wear my clothes with an mature air of sophistication; however, no one notices but me. A very wise woman told me that this happens as a woman gets older. I don't remember hearing this before or maybe I didn't want to believe it. So in one day I did a study. I changed my outfits five times. Wore Mac makeup, applied as I had been shown by the Mac representative and really put a great deal of effort into looking "attractive". But no one noticed and I was invisible even to my partner. But I knew I was here. What to do? What to do? Was I really too old to be beautiful, pretty or attractive?
What had happened was that I bought the hype about a woman's beauty. And now I am returning it for a full refund. I thought that no one noticed me because of the surgery I had for salivary cancer that left my face with an odd shape and an indentation on the left side of my neck. After the surgery, when I looked into the mirror...looking back at me was a stranger. I cried and screamed and begged for my own face back. Everyone assured me that I looked different but fine. That word "fine"...watch out for it! It is a non-committal word meaning "I don't want to tell you the truth".
I no longer had the face that I had taken for granted and what I had was not what I wanted. It took me years to get use to the stranger in the mirror and I blamed myself for the lack of compliments coming my way. I hid myself with clothes that were styled in the Eileen Fisher mode... they hid my body but made me look modern and stylish. I wore big glasses and covered a great deal of my face with a haircut that tended to move forward. I was afraid to go to Sephora for a make-up consultation for fear of the reaction. One day I did go and the result was a great deal of sympathy and an attempt to cosmetically hide what couldn't be hidden...the physical changes to my face.
Today, and I really mean today, I have decided that I had it all wrong. I was allowing the fashion world and the entertainment industry to tell me what is acceptable and what is not. I had cancer five times. I am sixty-five. I was a principal. I am a good friend. I like to read, laugh, dance, do yoga and be kind to animals. I care about the world. I support Senator Obama. I do random acts of kindness. I use shopping bags to support the "Green" movement. I support the ASPCA and Move-On. I donate money to Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. I have a spiritual life. I like to learn. And I trust the world will someday be at peace and accept all of us. Now, this is real beauty as defined by me.
When I looked in the mirror today, I looked into my eyes and I gently told myself what I wanted to hear...you are beautiful and you are a child of God. Be proud of who you are....AMF
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