The other day I had a meeting with a new student. We talked about the program and she filled out an application. And then she said I was pretty. It’s not often that a stranger tells me I’m pretty. It gave me bubbles in my tummy. I had to temporarily shake it off so I could listen to the rest of our meeting. Then she left and I thought about it. Why was being told I was pretty so important to me? It’s so superficial and vain. I should care more about being smart and being a good person. You know what? Who cares if being pretty matters to me. It made me feel good! The words hummed through me and generated a good mood that lasted throughout my day.
I was told I was pretty at a time that I voraciously scour anti-ageing products and seek cosmetic treatments to fight the inevitable. At a time when I thought I was too old to be pretty. At a time I mourn the loss of my youthful beauty.
I’m just being honest here. It’s hard to watch your face change. And that is one reason why I, and so many others love makeup. This may sound like I’m being hard on myself, but guaranteed, if I showed up to my meeting without any makeup on, it would have been a different story. It didn’t take a lot of makeup, but just enough to make a difference. It was enough to make me feel good about myself, and enough to be told I was pretty.
Ok, I admit it. I’m vain. So what if vanity is frowned upon? I want to feel pretty. I want to be told I’m pretty. It makes me feel good. And what’s wrong with that? If something makes you feel good from the outside in, then so be it. If it takes a little makeup, then so be it. Whatever it takes.