The idea of getting a makeover has always seemed strange to me. Not because I abhor makeup and pretty things, but because I’ve never really felt terribly comfortable with the idea that I needed one, or – okay, I’ll admit it – deserved one.
But over the last year, a strange thing started to happen… I started to really like who I was, on the outside and the inside. As someone who has rallied through depression, chewed her soul raw with self-doubt and who, regularly, put herself down in front of others, it was a magnificent realisation.
Epiphanies aren’t easy
Epiphanies like this though…they come at a cost. Realising that I actually liked who I am meant I had to stop fighting with myself - an all too common occurrence - and start working with what I have within me. I have not always been okay with what goes on in my own head, and now I’d have to be.
Of course, when I suddenly migrated from girlfriend camp to fiancé festival it put a different spin on things entirely, too. I never expected to make this marriage move in my life, and it took me a long time to settle into the idea.
It did help to galvanize the effort I’ve put into things, and the one thing I really needed to work on, was within me. I became even more aware that I have a family of three people, two dogs and a whole bunch of ideas to tend to.
Best case scenario
I have, pretty consistently, approached life with a negative perspective, basing my thought processes on Worst Case Scenarios and turning down opportunities because I didn’t want to take the chance of disappointing others, or myself.
Realising that I was doing this without even considering a Best Case Scenario made me feel foolish, but it took me a good decade to notice my own self-sabotage. Shifting that perspective took more hard work than I’m willing to admit, especially when I did actually disappoint someone I care very deeply for.
It’s okay to wallow
Rising above that was tough, because wallowing is natural state of being for me. I used to hate myself for it - ending up in this pit of self-loathing doesn’t do anyone any good, and I’d end up feeling stuck and stupid…for months.
Digging through the pit
Earlier this year, I ended up in that same stupid pit. I’d disappointed myself and things just snowballed from there. Bewildered, I couldn’t understand why I was here again, especially when I’d done all this hard work. Thing is: I did like myself, but I wasn’t acting on it.
So I let myself wallow for two weeks and two days (I counted), and felt better for allowing myself to just sit in the pit, and dig. Looking back, I feel now that liking myself means being okay with both the bright and blah parts of me, and not pretending like one or the other doesn’t exist.
This makeover? You won’t see it when you look at me, but it may the best one I’ve ever had.