You're So Vain

Last post I boldly challenged myself to go without make up for a week. I set some ground rules (dress and do hair as I normally would, nothing on my face except moisturizer and chapstick) and started my journey full steam ahead!

It is with great courage that I move forward with this post.
[Note: I only took one picture for each day-- no glamorizing or posing or trying harder, I am what I am.]

Friday

I was completely enthusiastic at this point. I was having a decent hair day and I was ready to prove that what's on my face has nothing to do with who I am. I took notes during the day. One I find particularly telling is as follows:

"1PM: Forgot I'm naked faced! Its also pouring down rain and awful out so I feel like there is more leeway for looking like a hot mess. Thanks for the support, Mother Nature"

So the bold, fearless, naked face woman who left the house that morning melted into a self-deprecating one by early afternoon. Did I really look like a hot mess simply because I didn't have make up on?? Doubtful.

 Saturday

Struggles. This is me on the way to the gym. Emotionally, I was feeling motivated and excited with the way life was going (which is why I was headed to work out-- who am I?), but look at that face. Does my joy radiate out at all? No. I was already over-thinking the picture for this blog. Instead of being less preoccupied with the way I looked, I became even more so.

Things came to a head when, later that day, I was called to babysit for a family I had never met in Tribeca. For those of you who aren't familiar with the area, I'll put it simply: these people are loaded and wildly successful. Kind of intimidating, huh?

Instant reaction: panic. Oh my god they are going to be expecting a pretty nanny and their first impression of me will be as a tired little boy!!

So I cheated. Only a little, but still. I put on a little face powder and some mascara and went on my way, feeling way more relaxed at this tiny change.

Do I think the family judged me by my lack of va-va-voom? Honestly, I don't know. I don't have any other experiences to base my impressions on. But I do know that I assumed they did, and I let that stick with me all night long.

Sunday

Went to work tired, came home from work tired. Worried about more impressions all day. I must have looked beat, because in the park some mothers said to me, "Wow, these twins are yours? Must be a lot of work!" I wanted to say, Ladies, if I am 23 years old with toddler twins do you think we'd be playing in the Trump Plaza playground?? No, we'd be in line for foodstamps.

Monday

School time. I spent the morning tweaking out and decided that oh, I'd just wear my glasses to hide my exhausted eyes. I dressed and did my hair as I always do (I swear I brushed it, even though this shot says otherwise), and headed off to class. I spent the day, predictably, making jokes about what a wreck I am. Not as a way to fish for compliments, but so that I could make sure that everyone knew that I knew I looked the way I did.

You follow me?

Tuesday

Gym time again. Cue the humble 'well, this is it' look into the camera. Tyra would not be impressed.

And this is where the challenge comes to a screeching halt. Because after I returned home from my work out, I caved.

Some friends and I were going to How I Met Your Mother Trivia at McGee's Pub and there was NO WAY I was going to show up looking insecure. I put on my make up and joyfully headed out for a night of fun.


Here's where the break-through happened: The feminist inside of me is dying a little as I say it, but wearing make up is a way for me to be confident in my self presentation. Stepping outside of the situation, I know that I don't even abuse the privilege, so is it really all that wrong to gloss over some of my 'imperfections' if it eases my anxiety and makes me happy?

What's on my face does have to do with who I am. It shows that I am well put together. It shows that I care what impression I make on people who know me and people who don't know me. That's me in a nutshell: I've got it (mostly) together and I care. I'm a perfectionist. There's no denying it.

I know we aren't 'supposed' to care what others' think. But having a little make up on gets me to that level. I worried more about my image without it than I ever had with the little bit of flourish I sport daily.

In addition, I learned that failure is in the eye of the beholder. Yep, here's another week-long challenge I didn't exactly complete. But after I got on with my life, I had a great rest of the week.

I had an amazing time at trivia (5th place out of 21 teams, yeah!) and I didn't worry about my face.
I had an amazing day Wednesday and I didn't worry about my face.
I am having a solid Thursday and haven't worried about my face.

'Failure' is a technicality. But in the end, my last few days have made me feel like a winner because I was finally able to get outside of myself and focus on the awesome people filling my life with equally awesome experiences.

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Off topic, but I'll leave you all with this sentiment. After my very first yoga class at Yoga to the People this morning, our instructor lead us out with a reading of "The Voice", by Shel Silverstein. I found it extremely poignant.

There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you– – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

Remember: we're all on our own journey. We are going to stumble, learn from it, and keep moving forward. The only person you need to answer to is yourself. Listen to your voice.