Why do I obsess over how I look? When does it begin to hinder the value of my life and experiences?
I once told a guy I was into that I didn't want to talk to him anymore because I wasn't confident in how I looked as a woman, or as a person for that matter. Luckily, he was sweet (in the beginning) and didn't care about my insecurities. But this is not about whether or not he could see past my insecurities. This is about the fact that I allowed the way I looked to change my mind about an experience I was enjoying.
Most of my professional life has been in retail. In order to be successful in such a field, I had to live and breath fashion. Fashion is more than the clothes on your body. You're hair should match your outfit, your skin should be glowing, eye shadow and lipstick should either pop or blend. I was very good at what I did. But unfortunately, being praised so highly for my dexterous ability to "look the part", I confused my identity.
I always felt very powerful in retail because that's where I received the most compliments, praise, and reward. I also felt very powerful going downtown all dressed up because people would pay me compliments. The praise from my coworkers and peers programmed me to believe I was only as good as I looked.
On a very random day during the Covid-19 lock-down, I received a message from a girl I went to high school with. This girl was not the most popular at that time, for reasons I get, but don't understand. I was feeling very down on my luck during this lock-down because I started to break out with acne all over my face. I had been crying almost every night, begging God to take the acne away from me. I felt completely hopeless. My world was crashing down on me. My appearance was everything. It was my vehicle for the one thing that made me feel good enough, compliments. Nobody wanted to compliment a girl with a face full of acne.
When I opened the message from this girl, a spark conceded within me. A path, that I am still on, had been illuminated. The message read, "Hey...so I know we never talk. But I had a random thought about you and how nice you had always been to me in school. I just wanted to say thank you. You were one of the only people in school who never made me feel like a freak. It meant a lot to me. I hope you have a good day."
I wasn't completely aware of the path I would soon be going down. And I wish I could say that one message was enough to invert my thought process to be more kind to myself, but I am learning. The message did, however, act as a first realization that my appearance isn't everything. There
is much more to being human than being perfect. In fact, being perfect has absolutely nothing to do with being human.
I was in constant confrontation with who I was. This caused me to adopt Impostor Syndrome.
What is Impostor Syndrome? Impostor Syndrome is a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their accomplishments or talents and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a "fraud".*
I spent much of my life obsessing over the way my life looked, the way that I looked, that I couldn't see the positive things I had accomplished. I was so consumed by the internal battle of "who am I really?" that I couldn't see my progress. I couldn't tell who was progressing, me or the actress? I didn't know who I was because I was battling an idea of who I was. Yet, without even realizing it, I helped someone feel comfortable for being who they were.
How could that be possible?
What I am coming to know is this; who we really are will always come to light. Just as nature will always win over mankind, our true nature will always consume the actor we play. I now realize I'm a lot like a child. I am very playful, I enjoy making jokes, bringing smiles to peoples faces, and warmth to their hearts. I can be quite loud and enjoy using my imagination, even at twenty-five years young. But I am still trying to accept the truth of who I am. Because of past trauma, I tried to paint my appearance has someone who had it all figured out. Someone who couldn't be touched. I built a hard exterior and acted as if I never needed anyone's help. I started to believe in the role and found myself aggravated at the sound of sympathy. When in all reality, I wanted someone to kiss my boo-boos.
It's not to say that who I truly am is not perfect. It's not to say that you are not perfect because what does perfect really mean? Who determines when someone or something is perfect anyway? It's a false idea formed by a small, powerful (whose power is sourced by our insecurities) group of people that most of us never meet in our lifetime. Being 'perfect' has nothing to do with being 'perfect', because being perfect is being who you are.
Perfection lies in balance. Perfection lies in how we feel about ourselves in all aspects of who we are as individuals. There is no outside force that has the right or room to defile ones perception of the self with the idea of what they consider perfection.
Life needs conflict to survive. If we were all the same, if we were more like the person next to us and less like ourselves, there would be no meaning. There would only be mountains of colorless gloom. There would be no surprises. There would be no mystery, nor magic.
Without you, there would be no life.
-Celina
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