Beauty is Only Skin Deep, or as Deep as Your Pockets

This post is somewhat personal, and is on a topic that is a bit touchy for some. For those of you who only know me through the Internet or through my blog, you may not have known that I had some cosmetic work done within the last two years...that sounds pretty controversial doesn't it? 'Cosmetic work', 'cosmetic surgery', 'getting work done', those all have such a negative sound don't they? Why is that? Why is it that if we alter our bodies in any way, other than diet and exercise, from what the good Lord gave us it's looked down upon?

Well contrary to what it sounds like, I don't feel that my 'work' was as horrible as I'm building it up to be...but then again, who am I to judge? Let me go into a little detail about my situation, and then I'll make my point.

As a child we all go through our awkward stages of change that, if we're lucky, we grow out of. For some it was having a flat chest, a big nose, being too skinny, acne, a crooked smile, you name it-we've all probably had one or another. Even if time and puberty doesn't cure all, the hope is that we grow into our adulthood and mature into stable human beings that can accept all of our flaws. Then we get a new set of problems...thunder thighs, saggy boobs, big guts, HAIR in all of the wrong places, not enough hair in some, wrinkles, grays, the works. So when is it socially acceptable to say 'I don't like _______ about myself and you know what?!?! I'm going to do something about it!'?

Well I have to admit that I have accepted a lot of things about myself that I know will never change, and even learned to embrace them. I hated my nose growing up. My mother always told me that my nose was beautiful and 'regal' but in my mind, that meant big, broad, a huge blemish in the middle of my face. Now, I no longer stare vainly in the mirror wishing that I had the money for a nose job (yes, I used to obsess over it), I look at my face as a whole and know that I'm beautiful and that it shapes who I am (I've also learned that certain camera angles are more flattering than others and learn to adjust accordingly). One thing that I had the hardest time getting over, however, was my smile.

I took the same measures that most kids in junior high and high school did, I got braces and for two years dealt with difficulty flossing, food stuck in the weirdest places and being called 'metal mouth', but that's not what I'm talking about. Ever since I was little and my teeth came in I had these...for lack of a better word, spots. Some dentists called them calcium deposits, some said they were bruises from when there was trauma to the gums before the teeth came in, but there was never a sure answer. I had people tell me that I shouldn't worry about it, their brother/cousin/aunt had the same thing and it went away on its own! (well that's good, because I wasn't worrying about it, thanks). Others told me that it could be sanded down, and that I would have beautiful teeth underneath-so then what are my teeth now? As a server one year, I had FOUR different dentists leave me their card in the bill with little notes written on them 'come by and see me, I can help you!' 'Well thanks, but no thanks, and by the way I have a really good girl that can help you with your comb-over issue, she does wonders with a pair of sheers.'

Needless to say, I was working on being comfortable with myself, but it was really hard with people constantly pointing out that it was a flaw. My family and friends truly did try to help. They all said that they didn't even notice it anymore, that it was part of my personality or that it suited me. I would actually get to the point where I was comfortable with it and didn't think about it anymore, but then as soon as I would forget, someone would point it out again. The worst were little kids or people who didn't know that it was there. 'Oh, you've got something in your teeth there,' uh, no that's my tooth. Little kids were bad because they were innocent and I knew they were just being honest by pointing it out...
So there finally came a point where I had to make a decision.  Really, the only way to take care of my 'problem' would be to get veneers. If you don't know what veneers are, or aren't familiar with how they work, here's a little background. First, the dentist starts by numbing the area where your teeth are that need the veneer, after the numbing comes the sanding, then the temporaries. Temporaries don't look like your real teeth, they pretty much look like your teeth were made out of wax and someone held a match to them. Those are on for about two weeks, or in my case about a month. Sometimes you get the permanent ones in and they look awesome and they glue them down and you're good to go! In my case they needed some adjustments and because they are made out of porcelain, they had to go back to the lab for tweaking and polishing which took another two weeks. Not fun. Something else to think about, the whole time you have temporaries on you have to worry about not knocking them off accidentally when you're eating, they are definitely not as durable as the permanent ones.


So was I vain? Did I put my looks before my integrity? Did I sell out to society and put what others thought was pretty before what I or my husband thought was pretty? No, and this is why. It took some time to adjust to the feel of new teeth in my mouth because it changed my smile, I could see and feel that.  When I look at my smile, my wedding pictures, my memories with my husband, I don't have one ounce of regret. It's as simple as that. It may have seemed like a lot of work, pain and money at the time, but in the grand scheme of things, it was not. I may get a big 'ol pouche, saggy boobs, love handles and wrinkles in the years to come, but my smile will not change. Who knows, I could get punched in the face and lose a tooth tomorrow, but I'm not worried about that, life is going to happen. When it boils down to it, what matters is whether or not we like ourselves and if we can live with the choices that we make.

I'm not saying that everyone should go out and get a boob job, or a nose job and totally alter their appearance because it will make you happier in the long run, that's a decision that a person will have to make for themselves. What makes you happy? For some people, happiness is in material possessions, a career, family and friends, a pet or a home; I'm not going to be the one to judge though.

Keep it real,

Roo

Labels: self image, Self worth

Push Up Bras and Fancy Make Up...That's What Little Girls are Made Of

I've told many of my friends that growing up I didn't like to wear a lot of make up because I felt like it was 'false advertising'. It's the same reason why I never wore push up bras. No seriously! I always thought, 'well if I were a guy I'd be pretty mad if I found out some day that my wife's D-cups are really small B's and her eyebrows don't really exist'... I guess overall I believe in being pretty transparent (with your look and your heart).

So with that said I thought I would be transparent on the Internet (so scary!) and show you my sin-make up look. I still don't feel like I wear very much, I couldn't tell you what a good foundation is or how to pick out cover-up, but I can put it all on in five minutes or less. If all I get on some days is some blush and mascara it's not a bad day, (even though I've taken some liberties to have fun and experiment now that I'm married with a husband that has seen me at my worst).

Here's a before and after look, and I will say that the tungsten lighting of my bathroom added for some gnarly before effects, and the natural lighting of my car really did do wonders (I feel like I should have flipped the locations). I added a little 'what I wore' make up list at the bottom in case you really cared about all of my makeup secrets, ha ha!

Labels: before and after, Make up, self image