Bringing inner beauty to the surface

So when I ventured out this morning to escort my son to the bus stop, I noticed the distinct tang of brine in the air. I am, for the first time in my life, living close enough to the sea that I can smell it. That makes me smile.

But that's not actually what I wish to discuss with you today. Not long ago I was talking with a woman whom I'm coming to be more and more fond of. We were discussing appearance, and self-image. She told me that a while back when she was really having issues with how she looked she came across an article in a magazine. She can't remember which celebrity said it, but there was a quote off to one side - If I can't look at myself in the mirror and say "Yeah, I'd fuck that" then I don't leave the house.

This particular phrase really struck a chord for her, even though there are people in her life who thought that was a horrible philosophy. I suspect that this is because it is very much in opposition to the you're-fine-the-way-you-are mantra that is being so heavily embraced in certain communities these days. But I digress.

This phrase strikes a chord in myself as well. I whine a little too often about how I don't measure up to common standards of beauty, particularly my own. Yet, despite my dissatisfaction, I don't seem to be doing an awful lot about it. I'm not just talking about working out and getting back into shape. While this most certainly needs to be done, I'm not going to hide away until I'm a size 12.

"You're not a 12?"
"No, I'm not, stop being distracting."

I don't put enough into my appearance. Most days I don't care enough to, and that bothers me. Let's face it - what begins as just not wanting to take the time to see to it ends with staring at the other women around me and wondering why I don't look like them. Well, it's in part because I didn't take the extra five minutes to apply foundation before leaving the house.

Now, I'm not saying I'll become one of those women that get up an hour early to do their hair and make-up. I will never be that woman. I'm not that woman even when I'm getting ready to go out - the only reason it takes me an hour to put my face on is because no one ever leaves me alone long enough to get it done. Uninterrupted, I can be ready for the club in fifteen minutes. But it wouldn't kill me to get up an extra ten minutes early, or maybe even lay my clothes out the night before so that if I insist on sleeping longer it will be easier for me to put myself together in the morning.

The challenge that now remains is actually going through with any of these bright ideas. Something needs to be done, though - I'm sick and tired of constantly feeling "unadorned".