Isn’t it funny how insecurities work. I tell myself “if it were just like this, then I would be totally fine.” However, I know if “that” thing were to ever be in order, I would find something else to battle with. Most people have natural confidences in one area or another. Likewise, I will guess that most people have insecurities in one area or another. Which brings me to…well me:
I typically prefer the less is more approach to primping. Jason, also prefers, without question, things that are natural. He dotes on me constantly when I have done nothing to primp myself. This is a great quality and something that produces a sweet confidence. Nonetheless, I can still get very self conscious when going bare on the face.
I believe this mind conditioning started in grade school. I struggled with a lot of acne through middle and high school. Oh that blasted T-Zone. I chose to wear basic make up and put most of my effort in to wearing clothes that I loved and mixing colors. Red, though, was never an option (emphasis on T zone even more…no thank you). I used my own money in middle school to buy this terrible shade of brown lipstick. I would cover my lips in the brown and then blot with tissue twice <–that was my formula for dulling down my natural red lips. I had a healthy confidence level in general, but I longed for the days when I would reach my 20’s and not have to worry about my skin issues anymore.
It took a little longer into my 20’s than I had hoped, but I began to clear up. Not only that, but I became more comfortable with who I was in general. <– That does wonders for how your reflection appears to you. I felt care free. I was working out, eating healthy and I felt great.
It was everything that I had hoped for. I would wake up, wash and lotion my face and go about my day. But it didn’t last…
I had an unplanned emergency surgery that left me hormones with an identity crisis and left my face with little dotted scars. The ordeal only lasted a few months, but the scars are still present today. Oh the mental drama I faced: I had made it through my adolescents without scars and was now having to deal with them in my “supposed to be level” 20’s. I had prided myself by holding the perspective that appearances didn’t matter, but it was so hard to convince myself of that during those days. A few doctors and specialists gave me their best advice and cures, but the scars were already there. I didn’t want to be someone who focused so much attention on my own looks and the looks of others, but I literally felt bummed out that my face was so red and spotty.
And like any good story, it has to get a bit worse before it gets better. My worse started again, when the bumps came back, 2 years later…for no understandable reason. Oh I would love to say that I handled myself so much better after learning from the last experience. Didn’t happen. I was down and bummed. I just couldn’t shake my downcast emotions. Believe me, I was a joy to be around…ask Jason.
At the time, I couldn’t figure out why I was so gloom and doom. It wasn’t until I was making a long drive for work, that I started to assess my emotions and the root of them. I began thinking about the power of my mind and taking my thoughts captive. I remembered that scars are actually reminders of pretty great stories. I had a few scars from surgeries, but I never thought of the places on my face as those kind of scars. However, when I started to think about them simply as reminders of my experiences and adventures, my attitude began to change. My care free spirit began to return and so did Jason’s affection for me…just playing, he puts up with my drama a lot and is amazing. Reorienting my view on myself allowed me to be joyful and remember that so much of appearance is how you carry yourself. Lastly, I am happy to report that my life long battle with red has reached a truce. Though I still don’t have a lot of it, I am not afraid to try it every now and again. I get it: it does make me feel a wee bit more powerful.