Who needs a Fall Makeover?
You can never be too rich or too thin.
Or so, said the Duchess of Windsor.
Quite frankly, that sounds exhausting. I’d rather simply be happy with myself and “count my many blessings, name them one by one.”
But allow me to speak plainly. What about a real women’s thoughts about her appearance? Are we even allowed to have them without being made to feel guilty? Is there a safe place to simply say, “Hey, it’s no reflection on anyone else, but I’d like to improve some things about myself.”?
I have a friend who is in great shape and very thin and you know what? Women can’t handle it. They think it comes easy for her. They feel the need to apologize for themselves in front of her. Even strangers “thin shame” her. It’s CRAZY! I’ve seen it firsthand. She often has to keep her goals and successes to herself because most women around her CAN’T handle it. That’s so ridiculous. If she is that committed to taking care of herself, that should be OK! It’s no reflection on anyone else!
I remember stumbling upon this blog once. It was written by a Christian woman and HOLY COW – she was gorgeous. I mean, textbook, Barbie doll, gorgeous. And I typically find a more unique look beautiful, but there was no denying it. This gal was picture perfect and I actually felt sorry for her. (That’s terrible of me, I know). But I thought, how difficult it must be making her way through life being THAT beautiful, let alone making your way through church looking that exquisite.
Sigh. I’m trying to navigate the waters of this post and I have NO IDEA what I’m doing.
So, here’s me. My blog. My feelings. Not a reflection on anyone else.
I’ve always taken care of myself. Appearance has always been a priority, simply because, I ENJOY it. I like clothes, makeup, hair… but lately, I’ve got to tell you. I’m feeling a little frumpy. A little mid-40’s. I suppose it’s aging. The whole process is beautiful and alarming at the same time.
Take this summer, for example, I always pause my gym membership during the summer because by late Spring it’s clear that I can’t maintain the crazy, exhaustive labor in the gardens AND lift weights and hit the treadmill at five a.m. NOT happening. In summer’s past, I lost a little muscle tone but didn’t fret much. But this summer?
It was like my entire body decided to slide southward during the month of July. And my fabulous red pants got snug. And they’re STRETCH darn it! It’s a good thing I love to wear dresses most of the time, but by summer’s end, I felt like I was hiding in them.
And then I watched one of my own videos on YouTube and saw a double chin and thought, WHERE DID THAT COME FROM!?
And my hair?
Bleh. I’m super tired of coloring it myself. Home colored hair ALWAYS looks… home colored. Yes, even as much as I love my Madison Reed, the gray comes back so fast that I have no idea how I’d maintain it at a salon. Let alone a salon up here. (I’ve been warned against ANY Door County hair color:) I’ve GOT to figure out a way to add some fabulous color and highlights in a way that I could still color the roots myself. Andres says it can be done…
And last year, I was ticked, really ticked at my husband about something at lunchtime and I bit down, HARD on my salad fork and totally chipped my front tooth. It served me right, I was being dreadful, but you know what? I’ve been walking around with that chipped tooth, hating it for ONE YEAR. How’s that for the self-care I’m always encouraging women to take part in? I’m so embarrassed by it and my procrastination.
And last but not least. My skin. I’m super proud of it, darn it. I’ve taken meticulous care of it for years and do so daily. Religiously. But… I have these two big sunspots from pregnancies, one on each side of my face. I also have a DEEP acne scar in the middle of my forehead that I FILL IN with primer every day. It’s an actual hole in my forehead. I love to go sans makeup, but that’s the one thing I can’t stand. The HOLE in the middle of my forehead. You’ve never noticed? Of course, you haven’t. I literally fill it. I hate these three things. HATE THEM. But out of guilt (IE: I should be happy with my face), I’ve never done anything about them. And you know what girlfriends? THAT’S STUPID. The two sunspots and deep acne scar could be taken care of in ONE visit to the dermatologist. WHY would I need to feel guilty about that? I’m not talking about butt cheek implants for crying out loud or clipping off my toe so I can fit my fit into Manolos. I’m talking about a scar and ugly brown discoloration that I spend a little time, just about every day covering up. It’s 2019 for crying out loud, they can do so much these days.
So, I’ve come to the conclusion that whatever funky, 40’s, “rut” I’ve been in, is probably rather self-inflicted.
The truth is, I had some emotional rollercoasters this summer and I probably did more emotional eating than I cared to admit.
The truth is, I’ve been sorta lazy about my hair. Content to just keep it the way it is, ’cause it’s pretty reliable.
The truth it, stewardship is a thing here. I’ve made a nice investment in my wardrobe. It would be in very poor taste of me to keep shopping to accommodate a few extra pounds. I need to be diligent and show self-control when I eat to accommodate the changes a woman’s body apparently goes through as she gets older.
I need to remind myself of one of my favorite mottos:
I need better, not more.
The truth is, I DO REALLY CARE HOW I LOOK. There. I said it. I think I care more than I dare to let on. It’s OK for me to care. It’s not out of raging insecurity. Or some It’s not out of competition. I care because I enjoy it.
So here’s the plan:
I’m minding my P’s and Q’s and I’m going to lose the pounds that have gotten on my nerves this year. I don’t believe in diets. I believe in moderation (à la Parisienne) and clearly, I need more of it. Late October, I’m heading to Andres and I’m getting a new hairstyle. I’m so excited I can’t take it. By then, my favorite red pants should resemble style more than sausage casing and I plan to rock them. I’m also researching dermatologists. For once and for all I’m going to take care of these two spots and the scar, so that when I want to, I can rock my no-makeup look with confidence because I really do enjoy clean, fresh, no-makeup skin now and then. And for the love of salad forks – I’m going to the dentist. Just get the dang tooth filed Ang. Stop being such a martyr.
I know ruts. I do my best to help others with their own “ruts” all the time. I work in a business that requires a lot of self-motivation and self-encouragement. I’ll have sales reps on my doTERRA team reach out to me and say, “I’m in a rut. How can I get my business ramped up again?” 99% of the time, they know the answer. It lies in their own activity. Do the activities that bring results.
Same could be said to me. “Ang. Do the activities that bring results”. We’re creatures of habit though and it’s much easier to b—- about something than it is to be disciplined enough to take action.
Life is about ownership. Heck, joie de vivre is about ownership. Owning your situation, acknowledging what you did to contribute to it, be it good or bad and being joyful during the process. So this 40’s rut? Frumpy feeling and begrudging my tight red pants? This is on me. It’s overindulgence, procrastination, fear… I’ve decided to be done with all that. So far, it feels pretty good.
What about you? Have you ever had a self-care rut? What did you do to get out of it?