My Facade

We all know that Hollywood, celebrities, magazine ads, movies, TV, commercials, etc are “deceptive.” It wasn't until I became a late teen/early 20’s and insecurity began to bring comparison into my mind. Thoughts such as, “She has the most beautiful skin.” Her body is so fit.” She looks so perfect in a bathing suit.” “Her hair is amazing.” would enter my mind when seeing a beautiful actress or model.  

I truly was convinced, in my insecure confusion, that these women were born that way. They woke up with glowing skin, they laid around doing nothing to achieve that bathing suit body, or their hair really is all natural without use of dyes, hair extensions, or enhancement clip-ins. 

Then I grew up and became more secure and began realizing so much of the “perfection” displayed on what we watch on TV or in the movies isn’t completely accurate, but it's a facade. Camera angles, personal seamstresses, hair and makeup crews, and so much more, are what goes into making a person look like they just wake up that way. 

I live with a syndrome/disease that not only wrecks me internally, but externally as well. I enjoy feeling presentable, and by doing this, I avoid conversation about what’s underneath my facade. And because I either 1. hide at home 2. cover up with makeup and/or 3. medicate, I feel like I'm hiding behind a non-reality facade of what I'm really going through in my day-to-day life. Why? It's uncomfortable for you to read this so imagine how I feel talking about it? It's not that I don't want to be able to talk about it, but I find that I tend to minimize what I'm trudging through in order to deflect from my reality. It's my facade. 

These comparison pictures below capture what I’m describing perfectly. Two hours before going to this event, I was feeling lousy. LOUSY! It took a mixture of my compounded Ibuprofen + Acetaminophen + Xyzal+ coffee + icing my face with a bag of peas to muster up the confidence and energy to attend. Jim was ready to cancel for my sake; if we’re being totally honest.

I refused to cancel. I pressed on. I didn’t eat anything but 2 gluten free/dairy free gingerbread cookies while we were there and everyone else was eating salads, entrees, and cake. Nevertheless, we laughed, smiled, and enjoyed wonderful company and conversation during a time when social gatherings are “prohibited.” Did anyone even think, for a second, I wasn't feeling well? No way. Did I even hint or suggest that I was not feeling well? No way. My facade. 

I wore my hair dangling around my face, in hopes to cover the extreme redness around my eyes and cheeks. I wore fake lashes because my real lashes were falling out in clumps this week from my reaction and there were hardly any left on my eyes. 🥺Anything to distract from the chaos of my red, burning skin!

 Looking "normal" while feeling lousy. 

I like authenticity and vulnerability. It's an attribute I admire most in people, actually. I strive to be that way so when I cover up how MCAS affects me--whether with heavy makeup or pretending I'm okay by showing up and not canceling even though I don't feel well--, I start to feel like it's a facade. It's like I'm a two headed coin. There's the make up on, nice clothes, and acting like I feel normal side of the coin in the picture above. 

Then, there's this real life person here, collapsing after the event with her makeup off, burning hot face so excited to finally prop up her aching neck for the night. This is the flip side (underneath side?) of my coin. The makeup doesn't cure my pains or the burning, but it does "kind of" cure the aching in my heart to feel a little less of an oddball so that's why I do what I do. When it's all said and done, it makes me feel more confident in this insecure state of being that I sometimes struggle with these days. 

And here's the thing, I have the most amazingly wonderful, supportive, complimentary, adoring husband a woman could ever want or wish for in such an insecure circumstance. On my worst days he's my biggest fan and reminds me of my worth and beauty. His admiration for me is humbling and I thank God that he shows me that love sees far deeper than just the skin and, for that, I am grateful.