Relearning What I Look Like

A personal reflection/ramble about the journey to be the tumbleweed I am today.

[copied from a journal entry made last year and expanded upon.]

I found my own type of beauty when I stopped caring about the male gaze.

I was a kid in the 1980s. When the mainstream beauty standard seemed to be blonde and tanned, I was literally the opposite. Fairly complected with dark hair, I knew immediately that the Southern Californian stereotypical "pretty" is not what I was. As I got older, I did what I could to look more like what media and people were implying was beautiful and stylish. I used Sun-In. Tried to tan, but only burned. I was teased (but who wasn't as a kid) about my teeth (I hadn't grown into them,) and my lanky build. As much as I would like to say that this all rolled off me like water off a duck's back, every observation about my appearance and how I sounded or walked stuck with me. They still do.

As a young woman, Herbal Essences commercials told me that my hair was supposed to be straight and sleek. Seventeen magazine told me that my lips were too full and showed me how to make them look thinner. No body hair was desirable. I had to shave my legs every day to avoid the hair root being visible in the follicle under the skin. Skinny was in. I lost so much weight that I would bruise when my boyfriend put his hands around my waist. Eyebrows were supposed to be thin. I overplucked and they have never recovered. Caked makeup.

When I started working, I did even more. I straightened my wavy/curly hair every day. For decades. I covered every flaw with makeup. Whitened my teeth. Bleached my arm hair when I got tired of shaving it. Make sure my chest looked "right." Tried desperately to maintain a look that was pretty and gave off a low-effort vibe, when in reality, it was the exact opposite.

Partners would encourage me to wear makeup and make sure my hair was flawless and I didn't recognize at the time that this was harmful. I was told, "You're pretty, but not like, model pretty," by a partner and realized then that I was being held to a standard by him and by others that I simply cannot meet. I will never be gorgeous. My build will always be stocky, I will always walk this way because there is only so much you can do to outrun time and genes and everything else.

To be clear, I was not raised to be like this. My mother was a Polio survivor who had a small stature and was fragile for most of her life. She was always supportive of me no matter what, would encourage me to pursue music, various interests and often told me that i was her shining star. When I would come home crying because someone said something mean about my freckles or something, she always made me feel better by helping me see that my differences were something to be celebrated, not be ashamed of. It was society, peer pressure and the natural inclination to belong to a group that most animals have that made me this version of me that wasn't true to how I felt.

Once I realized that maintaining this look and way was an uphill battle that I wasn't sure I wanted to wage for the rest of my life, it took a long time, a little over a decade, to finally be comfortable. During that time I still wore makeup, removed every hair, straightened my hair, but with less purpose. Going through the motions because I wasn't sure how to be otherwise. Then, I got a job at a bagel joint.

Prior to this, I had been involved with activists, many of whom were confident and strong women, existing as they are, however they want to be, and that gave me the courage to let my hair do its thing naturally and allowing my armpits to be fuzzy and not be so meticulous about my appearance. I stopped worrying about what men thought was attractive and started worrying about what I felt as a human being who isn't beholden to the standards of beauty as they are. When I tell you that relief and freedom were felt and man, was that sweet.

The bagel job required me to wear an apron and a hat. I stopped wearing a bra. It felt so comfortable and my mood was immediate lifted (instead of my boobs.) I would throw my hair into a ponytail and didn't mess with it at all with regard to its texture, color or anything like that. I stopped wearing heavy makeup because I would sweat it off being around the big ovens so much. When Covid-19 arrived, I wore a mask and stopped wearing makeup completely.

I started getting used to how I look with a naked face. Rosacea, veins, whatever. Once I was accustomed to my face, MY face, that was it, game over.

I haven't worn a bra more than five times in the last six or seven years. I wear makeup maybe once a year. My hair hasn't been straightened or even blow dried (aside from haircuts) for about five years. Sometimes I'm hairy, sometimes I'm not, sometimes I'm curvier than usual. And you know what? I'm okay with it.

My look nowadays is not special or even necessarily becoming, but it is something that I draw great pride from because it is JUST ME. My hair is wavy and often a bit wild, my skin is shiny and see-through in a few places. I'm currently growing out a mustache just to see what it looks like. And you know what? For some reason, people still like me, they listen to what I say, they value my insight. So it just goes to show me, at least, that how you speak to people and what you do matter more than how you look, and if you find that this isn't true, reconsider whose opinions you allow to hold weight in your life.

Corporations and society wage war against us and how we feel about ourselves. Making us feel inadequate is a billion-dollar industry. The notion that we are never good enough, our natural state or anything that deviates from "the norm" is something to be reviled is so unbelievably toxic. Remember, I am a white woman. While I feel what all of these awful standards do to me, I don't feel it as hard as a woman of color. I will always have privilege there and want to acknowledge that.

Right now, I'm pretty okay with myself, and that is a huge load off of a mind already burdened with just the weight of existence today. I'm optimistic. I'm glad to see other people embracing their own unique attributes. I like to see de-influencing and anti-hauls on social media.

Being you and going against the grain will always be a radical act of self-love. It's sometimes hard to do, and not everyone is at a point where they can be, but it's an amazing thing and I hope soon, everyone will be able to just be.