At lunch the other day I was talking to some of my coworkers about how ugly we feel. Skewing the obvious self-depreciation issues at hand, it actually was a fairly comical conversation. I won’t speak for my coworkers and what they see as their own personal flaws, but I can tell you some of what I voiced. Lately I'm hating my huge, shiny forehead with its lovely brown age spots. I also don't care for the lovely crow’s feat radiating from the outside corners of my eyes. Then there’s my teeth. Although they have remained amazingly healthy and fairly white, thanks to good genetics and Crest White Strips (which I do about once every 18months-2years), I still take issue with that one bucked tooth. Just one, mind you. It’s from 12 years of sucking my index finger. That index finger is actually deformed too, and has a touch of arthritis in it, but that’s neither here nor there. My hands are certainly not youthful anymore, but they aren’t a point of discontent for me…yet. I have also been noticing in photos that the skin around my neck and face is getting loose. I don’t quite have a double chin yet, but it’s coming – sooner rather than later. Then of course, there's the long standing obsession with my pitiful chest. There aren’t many women who have a worse looking chest than mine.
I'm not too wild about the "bingo wings" I have developed in recent years either. A coworker told me that is what her daughter calls that unsightly flap of skin hanging from your tricep that keeps on waving long after you have stopped. You know, the kind the old women who play bingo use to clear their opponents cards so they can win the prize! To avoid this awful flapping, I have started waving with just my hand, kind of like Miss America. Hey, if it makes me feel like a princess, then it’s worth it!
Speaking of fat flaps, there is nothing nice to say about my stomach. My mother was always very thin as a young woman. It wasn’t until recently that she started to put on weight. I remember her telling me that one day she was driving and she felt like there was something on her lap. She looked down and realized that it was her stomach! Oh my god! Please don’t let that happen to me! My stomach isn’t sitting on my lap yet (neither is hers, she exaggerates just like I do!) but it certainly is getting thicker. 10 years ago, I never went anywhere in public without holding my gut in. That was pre-babies and although I didn't know it at the time, it was certainly a pre-"needing to suck it in" stage of life. Yes, I held in a gut that I didn’t even have! Now, when I truly need to be sucking in that gut, I don’t. I think about sucking it in, but then I just don't bother. It's too much effort.
The rest of me I don’t really care about. My behind and legs have always been bulky, and I have come to terms with my thunder thighs. I’m a runner. My legs are strong, and my calves would put yours to shame. So there!
Of these things I don’t like about myself, most of them are newer body image issues. I mean, I’ve always been terribly critical of myself, but in the last two or three years, it’s gotten really bad. I like getting older for many, many reasons, but I don’t like looking older.
So, am I entering a mid-life crisis? Well, probably not really. I mean, technically I’m not mid-life…(what age is mid-life, anyway? If life expectancy is 75, then hell, I’m not that far off, actually!) And I can't say that I'm so distraught that I want to go completely wacko...maybe I'm already completely wacko, and I realize that there isn't much further to go! Crisis or not, I’m certainly not feeling super perky about my less than perky appearance. The question then is, what do I do about it? If men have affairs and buy sports cars to ease their mid-life calamities, then what do women do? I can tell you this – I would never have an affair, for many reasons, but the main reason is simply that I love my husband. He is one thing that I definitely have going right in my life. And, I just got a new car, so I a new Ferrari isn’t all that appealing either. I need some kind of pick me up, though. What’s a girl to do?! Here are my options:
1. Plastic surgery. Lots of it. Implants, liposuction, botox, the works. (Don't have the money for this. Plus, I can't even stand to think of what would happen to my house while I recovered. And what if it was terribly botched and I ended up looking worse than I do now.) Plastic surgery.
2. Alcohol. Lots of it. Beer, wine, tequila, the works. (This one is a possibility, but only on occasion. I'm a lightweight, and I'm a wimp when it comes to hangovers) Alcohol.
3. A new wardrobe. Pants, shirts, dresses, bras that fit right, underwear that doesn't have holes, and cute shoes. New clothes will make me feel pretty again. (First of all, I work in social services, so I have no money. Second of all, I hate shopping. In fact, it usually makes me feel worse about my body, especially when I am buying pants and bras. The shoes, on the other hand, might just be a safe bet.) A new wardrobe (but keep the shoes).
4. Star on a make over show. Get money for a new wardrobe, fashion advice from pros and tips on how to fix my hair and give myself eyebrows. (No one will nominate me. I've begged over and over. Plus, I really don't want to know how to fix my hair. I like pony tails just fine, and if I had a hair style, then I would have to actually get my hair cut more than once a year. ) Star on a make over show.
5. Make Greg fat so that I feel better about my own body. Don't get me wrong, he's sexy as can be, but maybe I'd feel just a little better if he had a nice spare tire to match mine. I'm not striking this one out. It's a real possibility. (Note to self - buy more ice cream)
6. Run away somewhere to an island paradise and forget all my worries. (Hmm...tempting, but there's that little issue of the two little kiddos I have to take care of and paying my bills.)
7. Hang out with my long time girl friends and get back in touch with my roots. Yes, this one is without a doubt a keeper. Girls, let's schedule a get together soon! I need your honesty, your humor and your tequila with salt and lemon would be a nice touch too!
8. Change my perspective. Grow old gracefully. Accept the changes my body is going through and view them as a blessing rather than a curse. The spots on my forehead are reminders of glorious days in the warmth of the sun. Each line around my eye bears testimony to many smiles and much laughter, the company of good friends and beloved family. The padding on my middle is a sign of health and nourishment. My saggy breasts gave sustenance to my two incredible children. Every day that I am alive these "flaws" will become incrementally worse. I'm going to get more wrinkles and thicken more around the middle. But each new wrinkle, just like each new day, is after all, a gift from God. Only with this beautifully aging vessel that He gave me can I fully experience and enjoy the world around me. Instead of fighting it, I should nurture it, and show gratitude instead of disdain for the hard work I put this body through. This, surely is the best and most sensible option. If it were only as easy to believe it as it is to say it!
Yep. I guess I need to work on changing my perspective. Oh, and get that ice cream for Greg...and a few new pairs of shoes for myself can't hurt either!
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