Perfect with Makeup
"You don't have any eyebrows!"
"Your lips are the same color as the rest of your skin."
"Your teeth make you look like a hamster."
"Her eyes are so small--look at them!"
"Those scabs make you look ugly."
"You need to lose some weight."
"You look perfect with makeup on!"
You look perfect with makeup on.
There are some things I unintentionally repeat to myself, and that last comment is one of those things.
I've heard all of these comments and more throughout the years--the first two were the most recent. The last one was a close second. Each of these comments come from various people from 3 different cultures: Indian, Mexican, and American. This tells me one thing: I'm bound to be objectified no matter where I go.
I began wearing makeup when I was 11. Before that, I just wanted to ride a skateboard, climb a tree, or, as my brother and I used to say, go to the park and "jump off of stuff." Those were the real thrills--jumping off of stuff and cracking my bleeding thumbnail from a skating accident. Soon, however, I was pushed into believing that my time of thrills should be sacrificed with shaving my legs and wearing lots of makeup in order to gain social acceptance. It all happened so fast--I was made to alter my body and appearance so fast and so soon without much preparation while my brother went ahead and kept skateboarding.
At 11, I was made to believe I wasn't good enough just based on my appearances. 11. A child. I was being objectified starting in my preteens and I didn't even think or realize how wrong that is until I became an adult and started working with kids myself. I see how fast children wish to grow up in a market which makes them believe money and makeup is the answer to solving their insecurities. Thanks ass-end of capitalism!
Makeup became part of my identity--to the point where I would not be caught dead outside my door without a full face. I wore it every single day, plastering on what would otherwise be considered pastes and waterproof tar to the only skin I was born with. I did this for many years--all the way until it became too much to keep up with in college. I was eventually forced to sacrifice my makeup routine for sleep and coffee once I realized makeup was only thwarting my ability to function as a human being with active goals in life.
Trying very hard to look like the next Joan Jett at 15
Not wearing makeup has costed me, however. There's a major difference in attitudes of people in everyday places when I show up in makeup versus when not. It makes me feel like I'm two different people even in the eyes of loved ones. I get more compliments when I cover my face, and I get more down-to-earth discussion when my face is bare. I think of how frustrating it is to be perceived differently by various people depending on who has seen me with full-face and who hasn't.
Therefore, it hit me pretty hard when someone close to me said, "You are okay, but you look perfect with makeup on."
Perfect..?
It was that comment piled on top of the other recents--that I don't have eyebrows, that I'm chubby, and that my lips are the same color as the rest of my skin--that I grew a longing for deeper acceptance of the physical features I was born with and cannot help. I went inside myself and pushed everyone else out. I looked at myself in the mirror daily and would crack and break. I lived with the weight of my own shame for a long, long time.
That is, until I learned to let go of what others thought.
"How did you do that?" you might ask.
The answer will shock you.
Makeup. The answer is makeup.
May 14th--The last day I wore makeup.
Throughout the the end of March until early May of this year, I wore makeup every. single. day. I plastered that bitch on. I eyelined and mascara'd and contoured and blushed and concealed and eyebrowed. I overdrew my lips ever so slightly and I looked myself in the mirror after my work was finished and gave myself the biggest internal thumbs up. I started getting compliments and flirty comments and more smiles and acknowledgments. It. felt. good. Until I got tired.
I got all the recognition I was looking for. I got all of the attention I was seeking. I felt good about myself. So when I got tired, something wasn't adding up. All it took was a little self-monitoring throughout this whole process to figure out what made me so tired, however. For one, makeup is time consuming to apply when I'd rather be going on a walk or jog without worrying about whether my face is melting off. Secondly, the little acne surprises that reveal themselves after removal was a pain to confront.
Most importantly, however, I was tired of covering up what was mine. Every single day, I was forced to get up close and personal with myself. I would be just inches away from the mirror, drawing out my already-existing eyebrows, when I'd realize, Boy, that's a nice eyebrow shape you got there. Drawing over it will be easy, and, You got good enough lips to where you don't need to overdraw much. Just a little or it'll look too tacky. Every day, I would get up in my own face and be forced to confront my insecurities and then cover them up while having these little discussions with myself.
It eventually came to a point where I'd feel sad covering up what I had. My narrative began to change to, Your eyebrows look so unnatural with that crap on them, and, Your lips look way more plump than they do without all this lipstick and that feels like lying. It's those self-discussions that helped me understand that I do in fact have eyebrows and nice lips and it's nobody else's business if they disagree regardless of how close they're supposed to be to me.
I have textured skin. So does everyone else.
I have a little fat in unwanted places. So do the vast majority.
I have light colored eyebrows that disappear in the sunlight. However, that same sunlight brings out the green in my eyes and I think that's a fair trade.
Feelin' good post-nap my first week of no makeup
Therefore, I'm learning every day how to cope with the constant objectifications and deciding actively to live outside of the box I'm consistently being forced into. I'm not a toy. The world is not a toy box. It's more of a playground, and I wouldn't dare ask any of the people you typically find on playgrounds to apply makeup to their faces.
Children.
I'm talking about children.
I'm just a big kid after all.
"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am, I am, I am."
- Sylvia Plath
Listened to: "Too Much Makeup" by A Giant Dog
Comments
Post a Comment