A Case Of The Mondays
I woke up this morning groggy, confused and thoroughly unsatisfied with my dreams, add that to the fact that it was raining cats and dogs and I had to hike nearly a mile to physical therapy and I was not a happy camper. Mondays, why was the day ever invented? Mondays jolt you back to reality like a defibrillator. I walked into work, feeling gross from the rain and when I looked in the mirror to fix myself I remembered why it is my concealer is my best friend. As you all know, I had a pretty full weekend and my face paid the price. I had been rested, I had been glowier, but not on Mondays. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks, I remembered where the obsession started. You see in high school I wore make up, I would wear eye liner here, blush there, but it wasn't an everyday thing and never to the extent it is today.
Like A Punch In The Face
Freshman year of college, first semester, I had 8AM classes everyday, work until 4PM and then an evening class. By the time I got back to the dorm it was dark out, I'd grab dinner at a dining hall, chow down and then drink myself silly. It was college, I wasn't under my mother's eye and we were freshmen, it was what we did. Needless to say, my complexion took a beating, at least that's how it looked. Because one day, out of no where, I was hanging out in my friend's room and his roommate looks at me and comments on my dark circles, "It looks like you got punched in the face." Well that's what the insult felt like, it knocked the air out of me and the next day I bought industrial strength under-eye moisturizer. Now, I don't know if it was the comment, or what it made me see in myself, but after that some sort of concealing was happening on a daily basis.
Of course I can't blame my entire self-view on one idiotic remark from a man who clearly does not know how to converse with the fairer sex, and I'm not going to, but there are always remarks, looks, feelings that we get off other people, internalize them and add them to the why-I-hate-myself pile. And even to this day, the number one thing I need to cover up are my dark circles. I will say, to the man's credit, that he was absolutely correct, it did look like I'd gotten punched in the face, it still does, and that is one of the reasons why I wear make up. But here's some free advice, to all men, even if you don't want to sleep with her, never, ever, under any circumstances say anything negative about a woman's face. Because let me tell you, she's thought about her face every which way, so anything you say will resonate with her as true. So again, never say anything negative, even if she asks you... especially if she asks you. NO MAKEUP WEEK: Day 5 – Monday
A Case Of The Mondays
I woke up this morning groggy, confused and thoroughly unsatisfied with my dreams, add that to the fact that it was raining cats and dogs and I had to hike nearly a mile to physical therapy and I was not a happy camper. Mondays, why was the day ever invented? Mondays jolt you back to reality like a defibrillator. I walked into work, feeling gross from the rain and when I looked in the mirror to fix myself I remembered why it is my concealer is my best friend. As you all know, I had a pretty full weekend and my face paid the price. I had been rested, I had been glowier, but not on Mondays. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks, I remembered where the obsession started. You see in high school I wore make up, I would wear eye liner here, blush there, but it wasn't an everyday thing and never to the extent it is today.
Like A Punch In The Face
Freshman year of college, first semester, I had 8AM classes everyday, work until 4PM and then an evening class. By the time I got back to the dorm it was dark out, I'd grab dinner at a dining hall, chow down and then drink myself silly. It was college, I wasn't under my mother's eye and we were freshmen, it was what we did. Needless to say, my complexion took a beating, at least that's how it looked. Because one day, out of no where, I was hanging out in my friend's room and his roommate looks at me and comments on my dark circles, "It looks like you got punched in the face." Well that's what the insult felt like, it knocked the air out of me and the next day I bought industrial strength under-eye moisturizer. Now, I don't know if it was the comment, or what it made me see in myself, but after that some sort of concealing was happening on a daily basis.
Of course I can't blame my entire self-view on one idiotic remark from a man who clearly does not know how to converse with the fairer sex, and I'm not going to, but there are always remarks, looks, feelings that we get off other people, internalize them and add them to the why-I-hate-myself pile. And even to this day, the number one thing I need to cover up are my dark circles. I will say, to the man's credit, that he was absolutely correct, it did look like I'd gotten punched in the face, it still does, and that is one of the reasons why I wear make up. But here's some free advice, to all men, even if you don't want to sleep with her, never, ever, under any circumstances say anything negative about a woman's face. Because let me tell you, she's thought about her face every which way, so anything you say will resonate with her as true. So again, never say anything negative, even if she asks you... especially if she asks you.