Coincidence? I Think Not A couple of days ago I found out that I'd be doing something really cool at work that involved meeting some VIPs (I cannot give anymore details for fear of being terminated. Hey Bosspeople, confidentiality agreement met!) I was exited, ecstatic, elated, other exclamations beginning with "e," and then I looked at my calendar and saw that the pivotal day was also the last day of No Makeup Week and I silently cursed ever starting this godforsaken challenge week. I seriously considered throwing the whole thing out the window and saying, "Fuck it, I'm not meeting VIPs looking like a garden gnome." But then I thought, "No, you cannot abandon this project MissBleecker." And so I decided, makeup or no, I was going to go through with business as usual, because, after all, those were the rules. And then I thought to myself, this just seems too perfectly orchestrated to be true, I mean either my life is a SitCom (which I often think it is) or the Universe is trying to tell me something. It just seemed far too perfect that the culmination of my beauty project would eventually end in the biggest test of my faith in my face (and all that I am to back it up.) Needless to say, the day went swimmingly, and although the VIPS (all of which were beautiful/handsome/put together people) might not have been scathed by my presence, as I am not at the top of the food chain (not yet, at least), they also did not seem to be bothered by my unmade face and were friendly nonetheless. Lessons Learned So what does this all mean? What has this week taught me? Why do I wear makeup? Well for one, because I like it. I like wearing make up because of the way it makes me feel I look. If this experiment has taught me anything it's that I don't actually wear make up for other people, my friends, people who really know me, don't care much if I'm picture perfect or looking like Ke$ha on a Sunday morning. It's me that doesn't want to look in the mirror at my true face. And why is that? It is because I think I'm ugly? No, certainly not. Maybe it's because after 22 years of looking at my reflection gradually change and age, the only thing I can keep constant is the image I wish to present to myself. So what am I saying, that make up is merely a placebo? Possibly. Who knows if what I see in the mirror is drastically different from what the world sees when they look at me. When you study your face, you can see all the years marked on it, you can see the cracks, the lines, the freckles, the differences that no one else can. So when you cover it up, are you seeing what you've done to your face or what you'd like it to be? People strive for perfection, it's what motivates us, it's what separates us from animals. We try to achieve, to be our best selves, to evolve into what we wish to become. For me, making my face is a transformative process which allows me to raise my head higher, look people in the eyes and not be afraid. It is a mask I wear, and I wear it proudly. After this whole week, I know that tomorrow, when I get ready, I'm going to take the extra 10-15 minutes and paint my face with my warrior lines. That mask is what protects me from the world, it lets me face her without any fear. And let's face it, after all is said and done, we're all a little shallow, and why? Well because we live in a material world baby, and hey, I'm a material girl! Side Note: I've been thinking of that line all fucking week!