The other day my boys and I were walking into Paradise Bakery when we passed this girl who was about my stature except maybe a bit heavier, and sporting a haircut that sort of resembled mine from a year ago. Hub said "she kind of looks like you" (for the record, she didn't at all) and instantly I shot him a look that probably would have killed him if I had that sort of power (working on harnessing The Secret for that too. Eventually I will be unstoppable). Seriously a bonehead move on his part. Men should just learn that unless they're saying you look just like some incredibly hot supermodel/celebrity they should just keep their mouths shut.
I wouldn't say I'm an overly insecure person. I certainly have enough mental ammo to be, thanks to my traumatic adolescence spent as Slagathor the Snaggle Toothed Wonder Girl. But that's all mostly fixed now and other than a persistent case of mildly obnoxious adult acne I think I've got a pretty good grasp on reasonably attractive. Mind you I know my limitations. I'm not a size 6, never ever and even when Hell freezes over will that ever happen. I have rubby thighs and a nice collection of cellulite in certain special places. My lady lumps are nothing to brag about though perfectly adequate, my nose turns up and I have nostrils the size of quarters, an attribute my husband is fascinated with by the way. Also, sometimes I have a beard. It happens.
I'm a normal wo-man, woooooman (say that like on So I Married an Axe Murder).
But I'm still a girl. I still compare myself to other women on a daily basis, I'm still my own worst enemy.
You can blame it on the media, blame it on social pressures, blame it on your adolescence, I do. The truth of it is that I wish I weren't so quick to size myself up against others. It's a weakness. I guess I should just be glad it's not an obsession.
I wonder a lot about how it will feel to get old. I took my Grandma to to the grocery store today. She's 87 and I wonder if when she looks in the mirror she sees an old person looking back at her, or the young woman she used to be. I read the obituaries pretty regularly, it's sort of a morbid fascination I have with aging. I look at what age people are when they die, what they died from, and my favorite part is when they include two pictures, one from their younger years and another more current. More often than not people look nothing like how they used to and that is a crazy thing if you ask me.
I feel like I've always looked like myself, even when I didn't if that makes any sense. Yes, I learned the magic of tweezing and received some special assistance in the form of braces. But it's always been me, Slagathor/Kalli, one and the same. We're obviously still all in here together. Parts of me are always going to be physically and emotionally unattractive no matter what.
Am I still going to be like this when I'm older? Slightly paranoid and always a wee bit too critical of myself and others? Probably, but I hope aging will have some positive effects on me and that magically I'll mature into a sort of self aware wise woman who embraces her saggly bits and diagrams the constellations formed by her moles for fun.
Or not, that's sort of gross.
A while back, my friend Sue gave me what I took as a compliment. She said on her blog that I was "one of the very few bloggers I know who looks just like her picture".
Good and bad I hope that's always the case.