Before I got pregnant, I felt pretty. I had confidence.
I had a unique look, almost exotic. I had a look from all over the world; middle eastern, Lebanese (middle eastern?), greek, italian, spanish, brazilian.. I could walk into any locally owned gas station and get treated like a fellow foreigner chasing after the "american dream". It made me feel good. Made me feel pretty. Made me feel like I could belong in any far away place of my choice. I also got hit on in bars a lot.
This may seem shallow, but lets face it, looks matter. They matter in two ways, independent or any combination of:
1. For personal security and self confidence (can be derived from self or attention of peers), and/or
2. For social security and acceptance from our peers (can only be derived from the attention of our peers).
For me it was that my looks gave me personal security and self confidence. I thought I looked pretty and my peers confirmed it.
Still seem shallow? Let me further explain. I wasn't "INTO" my looks. My LOOKS didn't make me whom I am (though they did give me confidence to express who I am). My getting ready regime took all of 10 minutes including my shower, no make-up, and no mirror. The only time I really looked at myself was during a fleeting glance in a window or bathroom mirror, or when I was pinning up my hair. Face-to-face with myself, and already feeling pretty, I focused on the things I liked the most about the face staring back at me instead of the ones I hated. It didn't that I had more hates than likes, all that mattered was that I had likes.
At first it was my dark curly hair. It was different, and suited me well. It extenuated my personality. My hair was part of what made me ME, so I played with it. The more and more I played with my curls, tight curls, loose curls, bedhead curls, unique up-do's, luxurious layers, the more I discovered that I liked about my looks. I liked my eyes. I liked my skin tone. I liked my freckles. And that was enough for me. Enough for me to feel pretty and my confidence to shine. And people noticed, not my looks, but my confidence. Confidence NOT vanity and NOT ego.
Becoming a mother was without a DOUBT the best thing that ever happened to me. I am wired to be a mother, and not just like all women are, but more than that. Becoming a mother was my Aha! moment! However, unfortunately, it was also the end to my curly hair. For whatever reason, after I lost my curls I lost any feelings of pretty my curls once inspired. And though my feelings of personal security and sense of purpose dramatically increased, so much so in fact the current made the latter almost seem false, I tragically lost a lot of my self confidence. Now when I look in the mirror I see tired baggy eyes, dull skin, and barely even wavy hair. I don't feel pretty, I don't even see anything I like. I realized it doesn't matter what other people see in, pretty or not. If I don't feel pretty than I am not going to until I think I am.
Recently I decided to start wearing make-up. At first it gave me just enough umph to carry some confidence. It wasn't that the make-up made me look any better, but it gave me the opportunity to change up my look, and I could change it any way I wanted. I could change it according my outfit, my eye color, my mood, my attitude. I could even do my make-up and then change my mood or attitude. A problem soon presented itself as I quickly learned that putting on make-up takes time, and well unless I am not on a schedule I usually don't dedicate the time to keep up with my look(s). See, I am not the type of girl, or person for that matter, that likes to wake up in the morning, let alone wake up and put make-up on. I sleep in until the very last minute, until there isn't even a second left to do anything more than pop in the shower, get dressed, brush my teeth and run out the door with papers and coffee trailing behind. Some times I don't even give myself that much time. Heh, who am I kidding, half the time I don't even give myself that much time. Half the time I don't even have time to shower, I am brushing my teeth, putting my pants on, and getting my essential accessories together (phone, wallet, computer) at the same. Its dire that I get as much sleep as I can. In the end I decided make-up would be better for the weekends.
After the make-up weekday mornings fiasco I decided to dye my hair dark, like I use to, to accentuate my exotic curls. And, Waala. I am back! The curls came back as soon as I rinsed and scrunched in some Suave Captivating Curls and my confidence as soon as I could look in the mirror (I had to wait a bit for the mirror to un-fog, <de-fog?>). Even better than that, as hard as it is to imagine there can be anything better than that, is it helped me recognize myself as an individual. No one told me I looked any better, or that I had been looking particularly bad prior to, and I am not even sure I look that much different or my hair is really any curler, but the interest I took in myself, the personal care and attention I gave myself helped me to be an "I" AND a "WE". I am taking better care of my skin, my hair, my eyebrows, preventing all the signs of aging, smelling, staining and I feel good!
Thank you Totalbeauty.com!
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