The subject matter du jour pertains
to the way we see ourselves and how terribly harsh our self-critique is. The
beauty and fashion industry, and the pressures that are placed on women – both
by themselves and by society – don’t help. As a 40-something woman who makes a bona fide effort to not
look like the bedraggled ‘homemaker’ I sometimes feel like; I am frustrated at
the images I see in the media, and the tsunami of distorted
representations of what we (ie women) should look like and aspire to.
Impossibly skinny models (who are
pressured to exist on air) parading clothes the average woman could never dream
of fitting into, and preciously young girls being offered up as “what we could
look like” if we bought a certain anti-ageing face serum. I find myself thinking, “Of course she
looks like that! She is only
20-something!” And don’t start me
on all the air-brushing and Photoshop editing that takes place!
I was having dinner with girlfriends
a couple of nights ago and we talked about why so few of us are happy with what we see in the mirror? Why are we so hard on ourselves? Both these girlfriends are gorgeous and
the ‘imperfections’ they talked about overhauling were undetectable to my
eye. “But we’re only
40-something!” I protested. “Surely we don’t need to resort to such
drastic measures till we are 50-something!” The problem is, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and no
matter how much I told them they didn’t need any ‘work’ done, their appearance
was defective in their own mind.
But I am no different in my private
self critique. Psychologically so screwed up that when I catch my reflection or
see myself in pictures, “fat” is the first thought that comes to mind. Ah, but years of childhood conditioning
will do that to you! So, no
surprise there. But let’s not
forget those dark age spots, wrinkles, monster pores, and scars that co-exist
alongside my sagging jaw and eyelids!
And yet, I am too filled with cynicism to buy those exorbitant ‘miracle’
face serums, and too scared of pain and fearful of a botched job to resort to
surgery. And so I manage by
avoiding mirrors, only gazing at my reflection to ensure nothing is going to
scare the living daylights out of some poor soul – AND to make sure I have not
‘saved’ any part of my meal in plain sight of my two front teeth! But when it simply cannot be avoided, I
try to celebrate the parts of my body I do like. My lips. My wrists. My legs. Oh,
and my collarbones!
But seriously, although I am well
aware I am no supermodel and, try as I may, will NEVER regain my pre-pregnancy
weight no matter how much I exercise (unlike some of my genetically-blessed
friends!), as a mother to three daughters, I HAVE to promote a healthy
self-image and self-love – if only for their sake.
So I try my best to lead by
example. Through action and
attitude. I talk to my girls about listening to their bodies, about balance,
and loving who they are; focusing on the positives and being thankful for all
that they are and have. I educate
and illustrate the importance and benefits of nourishing not just the body but
also the mind. And though all this
self-love can sometimes feel quite alien, with practise, I may one day believe
in my own self the way I fervently believe in my girls.
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