I look at my 20 month old son's eyes and feel an embarrassing pang of jealousy.
'Why the hell do guys get the best lashes?' I ask myself.
Then I answer, 'Probably because they also get all the other hair everywhere and it's totally ridiculous that we expect women to grow lush, thick, fabulous hair in like 3 places, but we are supposed to notice our 3 black beard hairs before anyone else does and tweeze them immediately.'
A couple of weeks ago, I was talking to my sister-in-law about what it's like to have a little girl. Her daughter is 5 now, and has been the most considerate, sociable child since she was about 8 days old. I remember when she was 3, I hadn't seen her in a month, and when I came into my in-laws home, she gave me a big "Hi Aunt Gwetchen!" with a hug and then proceeded to ask me how I was feeling. She had remembered (even though I didn't) that I had an upset stomach the last time I saw her.
In our conversation, my sister-in-law shared an anecdote with me about how Soleil had seen her wearing makeup for a night out and told her that she "liked her face better without makeup." (of course she did, she knows exactly what to say to everyone always). Amy confidently thanked her and then told her that she simply liked to wear makeup sometimes because it is fun for her. I had a sinking feeling because I knew that this is not the relationship I have with my face.
I have felt some pressure (but not too much anxiety) to get my neuroses in order before my daughter arrives in October, because I am convinced that my shit will become her shit if I am not careful. I also want to raise my son, Asa, in a conscientious manner so that he is both confident and sensitive to the feelings of others. I think that the way you raise a boy is just as important as the way you raise a girl, but for some reason I feel less prepared for the new challenge. It is ferreting out all of my major and minor insecurities and forcing me to look at them head-on. What will I do if I hear my daughter talk about herself in the same way that I do?'
I am not worried about Asa's confidence, or his judgment of other people.
When we thought of his name before he was born, I had a couple of moments where I thought, "Shit, this kid better have a heap of confidence and bravery to go through life with a strong, defiant, beautiful, but sometimes-thought-of-as-feminine name." If his 20 month old personality is any indicator, I need not worry; He barrels through life with a huge smile on his face, shows no change in his reaction to me when I go from long wavy hair, to a bob, to a pixie, and gives no shits at all when he sees me with or without makeup. 2 days after my mother had surgery on her eyelids, she was puffy, with dark stitches near the crease over each eye. Asa had been hanging out with her for over 24 hours, behaving normally and saying "Nana, Nana, again again!!" demanding books be read to him through her watery eyes. At one point, while sitting in her lap, he looked up at her face for a solid minute and just said "eyes." No reaction, not upset or entertained. He just noticed them. Then he moved on.
It feels different preparing for a girl. I am constantly irritated by the only-pink options and ballerina slippers all over everything. I hear beautiful things written by moms of girls about how they plan to "fight the good fight" and often they are fighting against things I have said myself and meant no offense by. I want to do a good job here, and I thought my feminist chops were sufficient, but it turns out I have more work to do.
The first step needs to be loving myself, all of myself, and showing that kind of beauty to my daughter.
People who meet me might think that I am confident because I am loud and I DO like to say things like "you're lucky you get to hang out with ME all day, I would fucking love that, I love myself." which is mostly true, but sometimes smacks of fake-it-til-you-make-it bravado. I'm a Leo. I have a big personality, but I am not without my insecurities.
So let's tackle my cosmetics addiction.
Until Thursday, I would not leave the house without mascara on. I could forgo foundation, eyeshadow, or lip stain, but not mascara. My eyelashes are hilariously stubby and blonde at the ends, despite my not being blonde at all, and they have only gotten shorter in the last few years with fluctuating pregnancy and breastfeeding hormones and the hair growth and loss that results from it. I also may have accidentally bought waterproof mascara in my last cosmetics run, causing my eyelashes to suffocate, clump, and break in ways that I haven't experienced before.
On Thursday I decided that, at the very least, my eyelashes need a break from this crap, and I stopped wearing it. The first day, I tried to compensate by using eyeliner and shadow, but then I kind of gave that up. What better time of year to try naked skin than the summer, when you can spontaneously end up in the sprinkler with your toddler?
Over the weekend, my husband mentioned twice to me that I was so beautiful, and last night I decided to ask him about it. "Did you notice that I had stopped wearing eye makeup and you were trying to support me, or did you just think I looked great?"
He said he hadn't realized my experiment. He wanted to be present for this pregnancy the way we were for the first one, so he was slowing down and really looking at me, big heaving belly and paltry eyelashes, and he felt so happy and in love that he wanted to stop and tell me about it.
Perfect.
So I talked to him about my insecurities. I told him that it will be hard for me to truly like my face without makeup, and I don't know exactly why yet. That I have a hundred female friends that I have seen with and without makeup and never thought ONCE that any of them should really wear makeup rather than go without. I know we are all our worst critics, but to me, my face with makeup and my face without are 2 VERY DIFFERENT faces. My face with makeup is beautiful. I really love it, and I have come to associate it with WHO I AM. My face without is blotchy, shiny, porous, and masculine (or maybe I just think that because I look the EXACT SAME as my younger brother). I KNOW that these things are not true to other people, but at the very least I need to get accustomed to this face without makeup, to associate her with my identity, and not something to be hidden under something "more beautiful."
There were other crutches that I had been dependent on that had been stripped away in recent months as well. If I have a good figure I could "get away" with not wearing much makeup. If my hair was longer I could "get away with it" too. What the hell am I "getting away with"?!
In talking to Dan about it, he tried to help by telling me how much he loved that face- the one without makeup, and proceeded to tell me WHAT he loved about it. He can't see some of those things under foundation, he said... I had to stop him. There was an immense knot developing in my ribcage and I needed to figure out why.
"My biggest fear," I said, "is that I look fundamentally different without my makeup. I need to know that the difference is not that great, and that whether or not I am wearing makeup is NO BIG DEAL."
He agreed. He had done nothing wrong. It was my own built up insecurities rearing their ugly heads.
So here I am, in all of my face-naked glory, ready to commit to you that I will LOVE THIS FACE. I will love it because it's mine. I will love it because it's real. I will love it because if it belonged to a friend I would never notice the makeup on or off of it, and I will love it to show my daughter how to love herself.
