So awhile ago my beau and I were discussing a topic a friend of ours online brought up: make-up and self esteem.As a self admitted make-up junkie I was quick to run to the defense of my beloved palettes of powders and tubes of gloss. I adore the creativity, wonder and drama of make-up .
So, I said aloud and a bit too quickly “I have a great relationship with make-up!”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than I wondered if I had been lying through my Russian Red this whole time.
In my teenage years I identified as a pro-make-up feminist, with the understanding that make-up is not always worn for healthy reasons. Many girls suffer from wrapping their self esteem up in their cosmetic cases. I know ‘cuz I have been that girl.
With these afterthoughts all over my face, the b/f suggested, “if you have such a good relationship with make-up, why not try going without it for a day?”
After putting up a bit of a fight I decided to take him up on it. For one entire day I would go out without make-up. This is coming from a woman with drawn on eyebrows, long but nearly invisible lashes and beauty tricks that would impress the fiercest of drag queen.
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History
My relationship with make-up is a rocky one. During junior high I had crushingly low self esteem, and at age 13 I began wearing make-up. As I got the hang of it some of the pain and self attack began to alleviate. Just as a glimmer of self confidence began to show my mother grounded me from wearing make-up to school for a week. She rolled up my plastic cosmetics case and stashed it away. This was punishment for talking back or getting a bad grade or some other menial thing neither of us could remember now if we desperately tried. Needless to say that confidence I had begun to garner was shattered and my addiction to make-up cemented at the end of that long week.
In high school I loved make-up for it’s extremities. My everyday look consisted of either blacked out raccoon eyes or super swooped liquid liner and shiny red lips. It became wrapped up with my identity, make-up changed how people saw me, what they thought, how they’d approach me.
In the party filled haze of college my hungover mornings held very little make-up. But at night preparing to go out to clubs I’d get ready for hours, transforming myself into a glamorous creature I hardly recognized.
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The Experiment
The experiment was conducted on a typical Saturday. I didn’t get ready before running my morning errands. At the dry cleaners I felt a bit uncomfortable and shy since he had only seen me before with make-up on.
After breakfast I had some time to get ready before therapy. I changed into more suitable pants, put lotion on my face and re-did my hair. After completing with chap stick I felt and looked pretty good.
I was nervous and excited about the experiment as my therapist had also never seen me without make-up. As I was thinking about this, sitting in the waiting room something broke in me and the excitement rolled over. It was like not wearing make-up was more taboo, more cutting edge than wearing it. Why had I been afraid of not wearing mascara all this time? It is so much more fierce to be confident enough not to wear it.
For the rest of the day during my errands when I looked in the mirror I felt edgy, model-esque. I began to really like the way my delicate face looked without the exaggeration of inky black on my eyes and a pale shellacked face.
That night we went out for night on the town. I got ready, soaking in the bathtub for an hour, moisturizing, choosing my outfit and creating an up-do. Not a dot of concealer was put on my face.
I felt gorgeous, more hot than I have in ages. My beau picked up on this too, staring at me from across the table he said “You are hotter than anyone in here.” I knew that it was the confidence shining through.
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Outcome
I am extremely happy with the outcome of the experiment. I truly did not know I would find such love for myself. There was also a tie in with my inner child and the inner 13 year old that was scarred so badly. Not wearing make-up reminded me of being that age. Seeing my face sans make-up I was able to more clearly see that little girl in me. I was able to heal her wounds a bit by focusing on my own self esteem and self love, which in turn was love for her.
I realize this is a very me-centric post, but I do hope that other girls can gain something from this. Whether that is just thinking about your relationship to make-up, or conducting the experiment yourself. Even if the experiment has a negative outcome, that in itself is not negative but rather a fantastic starting point to begin working on your self esteem and figuring out the root of the problem.
I know this has helped me in becoming more logical about wearing make-up, allowing me to feel I only need make-up when I want to create a special look with it.
And if you are curious, photos from while I was getting ready for the night out:
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[...] would tamper with your genital self esteem, I think it is worth exploring. This is similar to my philosophy about make-up. A truly healthy relationship with make-up is feeling like you don’t *need* it, [...]