I had some anxiety getting ready for my friends' Dad's 80th birthday party. I'd made a tactical error and had my eyebrows waxed at the last minute, so I had to wear make-up to cover up the angry redness. (Plus, I baked yesterday, so I figured, why not be a girl two days in a row?) I'm never comfortable in make-up - it's not a confidence issue, I just don't look like myself and I feel like I'm in a mask. It takes time, it takes maintenance, it's a hassle, etc. But when I decide to wear it for whatever reason, I'm always frustrated by my lack of skill resulting from my lack of experience. Too much? Too little? Wrong color? Shit! (Okay, so this is when it turns into a confidence issue.)
My friends were saluting their Dad during the party and I cried off a lot of mascara listening to them pay tribute to him. The common thread in all their speeches was gratitude and awe at his unflagging support, love and guidance. Each of his kids shared how his wisdom and advice had shaped their lives.
I spoke to this 80 year-old oracle toward the end of the party and he asked me,
"Not Stacy, why do you look different?"
"I'm not wearing my glasses and I have on make-up."
"You know what? Forget natural. You need a little something. Forget natural beauty."
I’ve got a bad case of loving you.
6 days ago