Are you beautiful? Do you count on your beauty to do anything for you?
Some people are born beautiful, and when they are in high school, they walk around flaunting their beauty. They torture the nerdy boys, they toy with the football players. They toss their heads and their beautiful hair floats from side to side. They know that you are watching. You are watching and you either want to be with one of the beautiful people or you want to be them.
This lasts all through high school. If you are beautiful, you walk around your planet as the center of the world. You’re god in all your beauty.
But then, you grow up, you go to college, and there it seems as if almost everyone is beautiful. There are too many beautiful girls all around and they’re all swinging their hair, flirting with their professors at least the cute ones and with all the cute boys that swarm.
At some point, you go to work, get married and maybe have kids. That’s when it all falls apart. You aren’t quite as young and you realize youth is beauty. You have to work at it and that gets old. You have to dress for it, and that gets expensive.
By the time you’re fifty, you have the face you deserve. And at that point, if you were counting on your beauty to do it for you, well, that may be all she wrote.
I am lucky in that people were not telling me that I was beautiful except at special moments when it seemed effective. I always thought I would make it through life on sheer will power and energy and Kateness. (A unique quality which if bottled and sold would either make me a very rich woman or start a serious landfill problem, I can’t decide.)
The more you counted on your beauty, the harder you work to keep it up and the more you regret its passing.
It’s easier on those of us who live by out wits; wits are easier to keep hold of. I’m holding onto my wits, gripping my sanity, and hoping to feel better. Today has not been one of my better days.
I’m hoping for a good weekend not interrupted by any more craziness. Early morning visit to ER, not all that fun, Migraines suck. Just in case you thought they didn’t, they do suck, so no sushi/movie tonight. Just huddling in the AC glad to be breathing.
I tell myself to relax, not get uptight, but the hardest person to parent is yourself.