(prayers for this sweet woman would be appreciated… photo submitted by her granddaughter)
Stephanie.
March 4, 2010 – 8:21 am
This blog started because of a comment Stephanie left on our blog about a photo I took of myself looking, ummm, less than glamorous. And it got her and I emailing about beauty and women and life. And she let us borrow her idea to start this blog. So I asked her to write a post for us here that I am so excited to share with you!
Thank you Stephanie for sharing your big heart with us, for your honesty, for your very original idea and for your sweet friendship. You are truly an amazing woman and I feel blessed to now have you in my life.
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Two years ago, for Lent, I gave up wearing any make-up. For months beforehand, I agonized about it. And then, my deep desire not to do it–not to go and remain bare-faced into the world–told me that this needed to be the very thing I did.
I think I have decent skin: not too many spots, but I’m terribly pale, and my eyelashes are too blonde, and my lips are too pale. And, I really like make-up! I love the tiny pots, the brushes, the colors, glitter, textures: all of it. I am so satisfied when two swipes of mascara create contrast around my eyes, and when I can immediately make my lips colored. It’s so gratifying. I never, ever go out into the world without make-up. If I was ever running late for class, I’d skip breakfast, proofreading, or even coffee before I’d skip make-up. Terrible, right?
I have spent so much time studying theology, and reading feminist theology, and also reading child development, and about how young women construct ideas of themselves based on flawed societal ideas of beauty. So when my negative inner voice kicks in, nagging: “You know you should at least put on some mascara. You can swipe lipstick on in the elevator. And your skin looks better with concealer…” you’d think I’d be able to respond with, “I am not just my face! I am a loved and loving person! I am more than my surface appearance!” But I just couldn’t. Or, I couldn’t with enough guts to give up the make-up.
Over the years, I have heard so many women friends bemoan photographs of themselves. They hate the way they look. They loathe their necks, or their chins, or their upper arms. They wish their breasts were different, or their thighs, or their middles. And the thing is: When _I_ was looking at these photographs, or at them, I _didn’t see what they were talking about_. I saw ravishing hair, and enviable decolletage, and sexy mouths, perfect skin– I often look at photos of my friends and think: “Wow, I have some beautiful friends.”
A still small voice within me asked, “What if… what if the way you see yourself is similarly flawed?” And, Lent is a time of spiritual reflection. If I believe I am a beloved child of God, and beloved creation adored by God, then who am I to let my negative inner voice run unchecked?
For forty days, I left my dorm room every day, attending class, and church, without make-up. My fiance proposed to me in this period of time, and I was secretly upset that the photos would forever document my “not best self.” I also talked to women I admired about my choice, and my internal struggle. A former go-go dancer going into ministry told me I was brave, and reminded me that it was important that I, as a woman, know myself and love myself for who I am. She took my face in her hands and said, “You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” I am ashamed to admit that I thought to myself, “And if I only had a bit of make-up, I’d believe you.”
As a spiritual discipline, it definitely worked. I constantly noted my discomfort at being bare-faced, and then checked myself, trying to send myself a kinder internal message. I also started to pay attention to women’s faces on the subway. Early in the morning, I’d see wet-haired women in business suits putting on their morning make-up. I’d see older Hispanic women with generous eyebrows and ruby fingernails, reading the New Testament in Spanish. I’d see African-American school girls, sharing lipgloss on the way to school. And I saw many, many women and girls with no make-up at all. Women on the way home from yoga, the make-up sweated off, flushed and gorgeous. Tired young mothers with bright eyes and beautiful mouths, reading to their children. White haired ladies with chic jackets and Barney’s bags, bare-faced and austere.
I looked at skin, at wrinkles, at sweaty pony tails, manicured hands, bejeweled ears (and noses, and stomachs, and eyebrows), at lipstick shades I thought were ravishing, and those I thought were just plain odd.
And I noticed that my internal response to others was more generous than to my self. I wondered if that might the case for many women, and how we end up like this.
Side note: I also never once thought anything about a man. I never said to myself, “How is he going around with that blemish?” Or, “He’d be so good looking if only his eyelashes aren’t stubby.” As far as I know, men don’t have similar inner tapes. So why do we?
I was thrilled, and relieved, when Easter morning came and I could put all of my “comfort” back on. Giving up make-up was harder than years when I’ve given up meat and cheese, and even harder than fasting all day.
I’ve tried to re-consider how I see myself, and what I say to myself, and to notice cues in the world around me that try to tell me what beauty is, or is not.
When I saw Jodie’s bare face on the Fresh Art Photography site, and her comments about herself, I had an instant connection with photos I took of myself during that Lent. I would take digital photos, and then look at them, thinking: “Is this what I look like? Am I plain? Pretty? Too in need of make-up?” I thought about posting a bare-faced photo on my own blog, but could never muster the courage.
I was so, so struck by Jodie’s comments about herself– she pointed out a blemish, how she looked tired. There was an immediate dissonance: what she said was _not_ what I saw.
For me, The Fresh Reflection is a daily reminder of the powerful beauty that “ordinary” women have. It’s an important counterpoint to the airbrushed and altered images that try to sell us things (including, I think, a false idea about reality) thousands of times a day. I want to give more value to the voices of women I know and trust; I want to hear them, and believe them, when they tell me I’m beautiful. And I want the women I know to believe me– to carry around with them and _act_ on the knowledge that I share with them: they’re beautiful.”
Please find attached a photo of myself taken two years ago, without make-up. Well, without most make-up. I have mascara on, but nothing else. I dislike the way my skin looks. I could make a list of things I dislike, but I am emboldened by The Fresh Reflection to just trust that I don’t look as ugly as I think I do.
St. Louis Kids Magazine
February 18, 2010 – 7:48 pm
I would love to hear from some of the women who have been featured already on this blog.
Has it made you look at yourself differently?
Did it make you smile?
Did it make you have a good day or week or month? Do you go back and reread the comments? Did you tell your friends or family or husband about it?
I’d love for those that have been here to let us know what it’s done for you. Because some of us are really praying that this does change your view of yourself, that it makes you smile all day or week or month swimming in the love you found here. We hope it built you up and not down. Because so many things out there can beat you down and we want this blog, this little tiny corner of the internet, to be a safe place of just pure old cheering. We want to be your biggest fans.
I started thinking about this because today our little corner was written about in the St. Louis Kids Magazine website. And the writer, Nicole, said we were the antithesis of The Bad Girls Club. And I loved that. But it got me wondering…
Are we making a difference?
Please go read the article HERE! And please keep leaving comments for these women. And please, I would love to know what you all are thinking about this.
