My friend Diane once said to me that if you were revered for your physical beauty, then aging and the loss of your fine physical features will be devastating to you. Funny thing. I was never revered for my physical beauty. A very late bloomer, I never saw myself as pretty or cute. I just happened to find a time and space where my "look" came together. And during that time, the confidence and freedom that came with being single and making my decisions wholly for myself allowed me to present myself in a way that screamed strength and power. Some of it came from what I was doing at the time and the success I was having in my career. At that time I felt complete in many ways. I had come into myself. I was the Wendy I thought had made it. That total package, if there is such a thing.
Now - 22 years later, I have lost a great piece of that physical beauty. My eyes are starting to show their age. My weight has added a puffiness to my face, further closing my eyes and making my chin oversized. My skin is still flawless, my eyes green and bright and when I smile, my face lights up. I can't seem to achieve the same sweet, crooked smile of my youth. So often I am disappointed by the photos that are taken of me. And I do hide behind my glasses and long hair. There is a great reluctance to cut my hair off. I want to stay young on some level and that is the only thing I have left that feels like it retains youthfulness. There is plenty of time to go uber-funky and cut the hair short, adopting a form of elder chic. Funky and fun. And that's something I look forward to. I don't want that old lady perm hair - or look - for that matter.
Getting back to where I started - I am beginning to understand clearly what Diane meant. And it is difficult to come to terms with. The attention I received in my youth is gone. Compliments are few and far between. And on some level, it feels like my sexy girliness of my youth is finally gone. I am blessed by my handsome husband but I can't help but wonder, if I were single, who would ever take a second look? Am I pretty but in a different way? I know that the inside of me is lovelier, more compassionate and discerning. I am a much better woman and human being all around. However, the gradual loss of that "package"feels very frightening to me. Because looks seem to make up a big part of first impressions. They always have. And I know full well it's wrong. But it's still true.
So the questions become, "How do I handle these feelings?" "Will I let them define me or stop me from being the very best I can be?"
I miss my authentic self. I am feeling a bit melancholy - but I can't pinpoint why. I have a marvelous life that surrounds me. A beautiful child and a loving husband. And yet sometimes I feel like I am missing a piece of myself. Giving away bits and pieces of my heart everyday takes wee pieces of my own soul. And it feels like everyone wants something from me. I say yes so that I don't stay in this constant place of cash "poverty", even when it is a detriment to my own time, space and well being. It puts me in a place where I must do for others when my time is limited by reality. And in the end, I am disappointed and disappointing. To myself, and most importantly, to others.I think about when life was once easier. Where money came to me because I worked incredibly hard and was paid what I truly deserved. You'd think I'd become a better student. Instead, I have peddled backwards to a place where I have to work harder and harder to feel safer and stable. And this means I must work more hours. Taking away the precious time from myself. When I think about that, it pains me.I love singing in my choir. It is one of the few joys that are my own. But even the time it takes to go to the practice and enliven my spirit feels like time taken away from work. Time where I should be fulfilling my commitments to others. Time where I could be making more and more money. When I look at that introspectively, I am saddened because it doesn't even come close to expressing my core values and what truly matters to me.So in losing everything, there is a piece of me that has lost myself. Perhaps in time I can regain it.Lately I have had some serious health scares. Thankfully, my God is allowing me more time at this present moment to live day by day. But this, and my aging, has put my life in front of me in a way that feels expeditious. I have so much to do that I want to do. Will I ever have time to do it? Will there be time? Will I make the time? Can I afford the time? Will I ever feel safe once again? I am not sure. Being a parent is all about giving your life away willingly. And as you give each and every piece of your precious heart away, it is stored in the heart of your child. So they can be strong when they leave you. But what we all forget is how do we regain the completeness of self that we so freely let go? Are we ever whole again? Thinking about this makes me very tired and makes me want to curl up in a ball and sleep. It feels like the only refuge of my mind at this moment. So I will cut myself some slack and permit myself to lift my worries up and hand them to God. Until my busiest of busy minds can work things through.
My friend Diane once said to me that if you were revered for your physical beauty, then aging and the loss of your fine physical features will be devastating to you. Funny thing. I was never revered for my physical beauty. A very late bloomer, I never saw myself as pretty or cute. I just happened to find a time and space where my "look" came together. And during that time, the confidence and freedom that came with being single and making my decisions wholly for myself allowed me to present myself in a way that screamed strength and power. Some of it came from what I was doing at the time and the success I was having in my career. At that time I felt complete in many ways. I had come into myself. I was the Wendy I thought had made it. That total package, if there is such a thing.
