Wednesday, August 28, 2013

My name is Hope and I hate that I'm insecure

HelloGiggles' Guide to Beautiful Eyes

Hope's Guide to Beautiful Eyes; keep 'em clean and see the good in others. See the world with a good dose of optimism and a shade of realism.
I would much rather look into the bare, honest eyes of a kind, caring human than the long-lashed, colorfully lidded, wing tipped eyes of a model worrying about her eyeliner smudging.
Why can't eyes full of life and emotion be more beautiful than the painted ones?

But on the other hand, I know how much better I feel when I look in the mirror and see the highlighted curves of my face and the brighter glint in my eye from the subtle effect of makeup. So I understand the usefulness of makeup. I just wish it wasn't such a crutch.
I think I would've been happier if that HG article had simply been titled "Guide to Beautiful Lashes" rather than eyes. I have never worn falsies, doubt I'll ever get to that stage, and I won't really miss it! My eyes can be just as beautiful without it, thank you very much.
And I doubt the author meant it like that.

Backpedaling story time! I had a rough, rough night last night. We were in bed by 9 o'clock but I didn't actually lay down to finally fall asleep until around 11:30. What was I doing those two and a half hours, you ask? Well without going into too much embarrassing detail, I was on a hormonal rampage throughout our small apartment, crying hot, fat tears and using styrofoam packing pieces to placate my need to dropkick a small baby.
I was basically a rage-monster frothing at the mouth for no other reason than my eye felt like it had something in it while I was trying to sleep and I felt fat.


I tried multiple times to just get over it and go to sleep but the rage would boil over as the bedsheets were too hot, my eye was too irritated, the pillow to lumpy, and my husband too peaceful. Not his fault of course, I was lucid enough to understand that so I'd slip off the bed one more time and go break some more styrofoam and scream into a goose-feather down comforter.
It wasn't comforting.
The current state of my uterus didn't help at all, and probably led the rebellion in my emotions but I was really miserable last night, guys. Naturally, "miserable" in the shallow sense of the word in that my life is basically perfect and my misery was founded in vanity.
Nontheless! I was miserable.
Satan was pulling a fast one on my self-esteem and it wasn't pretty. (ba-dum-tss)
I wash my face every night. I don't wear hardly that much makeup anyway, but I wash it every night and use the Arbonne acne treatment, as well as using a St. Ives exfoliating scrub every time I wash my hair in the shower (which is every few days). I drink three full red solo cups of water every day at work and then some back at home. I hardly ever drink soda and our meals have gotten drastically better. I sleep a lot.
My face still looks like this...


I blame Chrissy for my bravery in posting this photo. (Sorry to direct more traffic to your post deary, but you are just so inspiring. The back a yo head is ridickalous, Sparkle. Own dat ponytail, work dat updo!)
I have never had acne issues this bad in my life...until I got married. Oh, the irony. Granted, I'd much rather deal with it now that he's stuck with me forever rather than attempting to date with that glorious array of gross adorning my face but still.
Not cool.
I'm leaning towards thinking that it's hormonal imbalance that's causing the issue and should probably go see a doctor about it but I'm terrible at scheduling appointments and considering things serious enough for medical intervention.
Regardless, I'm not a fan of what's happening to my face.
So I washed up my face last night to reveal that pictured above, and in case it wasn't painfully obvious enough, my hair has been acting like it's in the throes of the terrible two's and never cooperates. I think I need to get it styled. The cut it's currently in is just NOT working.
And as I mentioned earlier, we have been eating relatively well. For the past couple months I have fruit for breakfast, salad for lunch, something substantial for dinner because by then I'm feeling woozy. We go on walks, I'm constantly mindful of ways to sneak in a little bit of exercise...


...and I'm STILL over 160lbs and it STILL bothers me.
Guys, in no way am I "fat". I know that. In my intelligent brain, I know that. So why do I often feel like I'm staring at Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror before stepping in the shower?
How terrible is that? Why can't I just erase all that body image garbage weighing down my mind and realize it makes no difference to what kind of person I am?
Doesn't my character matter more than my appearance?
Shouldn't I be more worried about which soup kitchen I can get a shift in? Shouldn't I be answering the call from the United Blood Services (programmed as "vampires" in my phone) to set up an appointment rather than ignoring it? Shouldn't I dig through my cupboards and cook up a casserole for the sick family next door? I don't even know if there is a sick family next door because I don't know my neighbors! (Most of them are potheads and wouldn't answer the door anyway, /shrug)
How did I let it get this bad? How did I get to the point that I'm so wrapped up in how I look that I'm barely seeing anything around me that I can help with?
It's unfair to myself that I'm having this existential crisis in the middle of our moving adventure so pretty much I look terrible ALL the time as well as I need help from OTHER people as well as my time is mostly blocked out with packing and cleaning and working.
On a similar note; finally did laundry last night. Found a clean load of Mark's shirts in the dryer that had been sitting nice and pretty for probably a week, ready to be folded. Sorry, babe.
Guys, how am I gonna be a mom with my mind and ego in this blubbery, compromised state? How am I gonna look at my post baby body and think, "Those stretchmarks and those sore boobs are so worth it and I am such a beautiful woman," when I can't hardly do so with my young and healthy body now.
How can I teach my daughters their worth when I don't even see my own? Or my sons!
How can I teach my children to look beyond themselves when I don't see beyond myself?
Do as I say, not as I do?
While I was up and miserable last night I got out my landscape drawing pad, put it up vertically and using a black sharpie started scrawling angrily all the things I hate about myself.
It started with a huge, all-caps UGLY underlined at the top and went from there. By the time I got to the bottom there wasn't room for all the words and I started filling in the holes back up the sides.
It sounds horrible but it was cathartic and I'm glad I did it. Why? Because at the end of it all I looked at my terrible piece of loathe-art and realized that the majority of what I'd written was all outward appearance based. "Fat", "ugly", and nit picky bits about my face and body that I don't view as perfect.


I am guilty of having the word "vain" on my scribbled list (all these issues are stemming from looks, after all), but Rowling makes a wonderful point that was immediately brought to mind as I surveyed that paper I'd emptied my insecurities into.
If those are the worst things about me, the terrible, awful things that were making me cry and tantrum late into the night...then maybe I'm not doing as bad as I think. Maybe I'm actually okay and just need to forget myself.
In that moment by myself with my page full of downers I desperately wanted Mark to realize something was wrong and come check on me. I wanted him to come hold my face and tell me every good thing he's ever seen in me and convince me that I was wrong. That the things I saw weren't true.
But he was asleep. And it's not his job. He can't control or directly affect the way I see myself. And he shouldn't! They're my eyes and my brain and my responsibility. I'm grateful for his presence and ability to bring me back to reality when my ego's getting unmanageable. I'm grateful for his love that reminds me that I'm worth something beyond my contribution to fashionable appearances.
I need to take care of me. I need to love me. I need to forget me and be more mindful of others. Did freaking Jesus care about his complexion and whether his robe was hiding his tummy fat? No! He was too busy healing blind people and spouting parables and turning water into wine.
I can't do any of that, obviously, I'm no doctor or Messiah and I'm no good with symbolism and making up stories.
But I can visit lonely people. I have a healthy body that could do yard work for those less...sprightly. I could call my Mom more. I could cook dinners for busy Moms. Wouldn't I rather my hands be dirty and scratched from weeding/pruning somebody's yard than adorned with the swankiest manicure around?
Wouldn't I rather my feet be sore and tired from walking with my husband, enjoying the fresh air rather than propped up and chillin' in front of the tv?

I would! I would so much rather!
And I would rather the world did it with me, too.


13 comments:

  1. Well, if there was any question on anyones mind that we are the same frackin person this aleviates all of that. Gahh. I do not have any advice or answers, I just have what I wrote in my post, understanding and support (and a strong hatred for acne and insecurity and jabba the hut) SO, yeah, I love your guts and you and stuff.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Chrissy! Please please tell me you use "frackin'" because of Battlestar Gallactica because then we will SRSLY be soul sisters.
      And also you're wonderful :) <3

      Delete
  2. I have been there. I used to hate the way I looked physically, but art some point I decided it wasn't healthy & picked just one thing I liked physically about myself & focused on inky that when I looked in the mirror. After a while I noticed a couple other things I liked & added those to the list of things I was allowed to look at. Somehow now my hips don't seem as gargantuan, I rarely notice my thighs or love handles, and I usually like the way I look. That may not be the path you take to love your body, but I hope you find a way. :)

    Reading this I realize I have been doing this to my internal self rather than my body & need to make some adjustments to my attitude about my emotions. Thanks for being so open & sharing this!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Rayla :) I used to do that and I guess I just forgot to keep up with it and it all overwhelmed me.
      Thank YOU for the reminder!

      Delete
  3. Oh, and please ignore any typos autocorrect may have made for me. ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I have been there. I used to hate the way I looked physically, but art some point I decided it wasn't healthy & picked just one thing I liked physically about myself & focused on inky that when I looked in the mirror. After a while I noticed a couple other things I liked & added those to the list of things I was allowed to look at. Somehow now my hips don't seem as gargantuan, I rarely notice my thighs or love handles, and I usually like the way I look. That may not be the path you take to love your body, but I hope you find a way. :)

    Reading this I realize I have been doing this to my internal self rather than my body & need to make some adjustments to my attitude about my emotions. Thanks for being so open & sharing this!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh my Hope! So many things I wanna say!

    Firstly, I'm STILL trying to be ok with my post-baby body. And quite frankly, you KNOW I have some image issues. BUT I can definitely say, that as of right now, I'm ok with me as I am. Just more of me to love ;) Hahahaha

    I also think you are such an awesome person! You are more than willing to help anyone that needs it. You have such a beautiful soul and love of life that rubs off on anyone! Andrew always knows if I've talked to/hung out with you ;) I'm a happier person and you make me laugh while at the same time I know I can tell you anything and I won't be judged or made fun of.

    You're going to be a great mother someday. Just the fact thgat you were so open about this proves that you're going to be able to teach those kids without a problem ;)

    Also, I love you. The end <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ALI. You always know what to say. Thank you!!

      #youdabestsistah

      Delete
  6. Hope,
    I can't say enough about how much I appreciated this post. I love how candid and open and honest you are. I love how you are not afraid to be... YOU, and to say the words you want to say, how you want to say them. The way you write makes it so easy to hear your real voice in my head while I read, and it makes it all the better. And my two cents: I've always thought you were a cute girl. You have your own unique style and you embrace your more natural beauty. You don't try hard to be fake, or something you're not. And in the short time I've known you, you seem to always be comfortable with who you are, even if it's not the cookie-cutter version of perfect (cause who even likes that version anyway?? Gross). Anyway, I guess I just wanna say thanks and I love you. And also, that I can so relate with throwing late-night temper tantrums and writing yourself angry notes for no stupid reason. Women can be psychos.. Seriously. We have it rough sometimes!

    Oh, and my favorite quote from this whole thing:
    "Did freaking Jesus care about his complexion and whether his robe was hiding his tummy fat? No! He was too busy healing blind people and spouting parables and turning water into wine."

    Hahahaha. You are great.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We really are the psycho gender.
      Thanks Jacquie :) Your comments are the best, I love 'em.

      Delete
  7. Um, I love you. With you and Chrissy and everyone talking about insecurities in such an open and brave way...I think maybe it's time for Jen to jump on that bandwagon. You inspire me.

    Two things. 1) You are gorgeous. I mean, having met you exactly once IRL, I'm pretty sure we need to be homies. You crack me up and I love your face AND your guts. So there's that.

    2) I'm pretty sure one of the best ways to teach daughters about their self worth is to admit that you struggle with your own. Showing your vulnerability as a grown-up has a strong impact on children and young adults. Telling your (hypothetical) daughters, "Mommy knows she is a good person and that looks aren't as important as character, but sometimes she gets discouraged because of x, y, or z," would go much further than saying, "I love my stretch marks and chubby thighs!" Because that is a lie and they know it.

    And lest this turn into a novel, I'll be done. You are fantastic. The end.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Haha, Chrissy started a bit of a revolution, didn't she?

    Two more things;
    1) I'm pretty sure I'm blushing because I'm in love with your blog and your stories and being homies with you would basically be the best. So let's be homies.

    2) Oh my gosh, thank you. Like I said, I love love love your blog and reading the bits about your girls makes me so excited to be a mom so I sincerely appreciate the view of a REAL LIFE mommy.

    Also, I like novels. And you.

    ReplyDelete