Happy Monday everyone! Yes, I know no one says that (unless you actually love your job, of course).
So today I want to talk a little about makeup. Around age 16/17, I tried to wear makeup. I found this foundation that supposedly helped acne. Naturally, I bought it, hoping I could appear to have clearer skin while actually working towards clearer skin. It sounded like a great deal.
Not long after, I stopped. After 16 years of seeing my bare face, wearing makeup was a foreign concept to me. Even for someone plagued with acne and anxiety, I much preferred my bare face, simply because it was what I’d been used to. Looking back, I see now that it has helped me build character. I must confess, though, that I still hate it when people point out my acne (it’s just one of those things).
I also remember temporarily dying my dark red hair once. One of my sisters told me how proud of me she was, and claimed that I was somehow “growing.” At the time it puzzled me, but the more I look into it, the more I start to realize something. All my life I’ve been told that the more I change the way I look, the better.
Now don’t get me wrong. In no way do I think I’m better than anyone who wears makeup or dyes their hair. But throughout these years, I’ve had the pleasure of seeing myself grow up to look like my parents, particularly my mother. Not wearing makeup has actually allowed me to challenge myself and work through my anxiety.
See, I may not always be what the world calls beautiful, but I am, in a literal sense, a work of art. It absolutely fascinates me how we grow to resemble our parents, or even our ancestors, yet never have to sacrifice our own individuality. For mother’s day, I just wanted to take a moment and reflect on this.
But more importantly, I’d like to give a shout-out to all the loving mothers in the world, even if I’m a day late.