All Dolled Up: My Story on Beauty Fatigue
A story of freeing myself of society and self imposed rules (well, an attempt to do so).
I’ve never really loved makeup in the way I thought I should.
I grew up in the south, where makeup was not only an unspoken requirement when you left the house, but it was also adored and worn daily. It was encouraged by most of the women in my life.
But when I sat down at my vanity, rummaging through brushes of varying angles and sizes, I didn’t love the process. I didn’t get that same satisfaction or glow that my sisters had once they put it on. It gave them an extra pep in their step.
For me? It did just the opposite. It gave me unriddled anxiety and hyper awareness of my looks. I felt like I didn’t recognize myself (I give half of that to the fact I was 13 and definitely sucked at beating my face).
I hated when I looked in the mirror. I felt I could hardly recognize myself under thick, 3 shades-darker-than-I-actually-was foundation, faux eyelashes, and filled-in eyebrows (it was 2016). And it didn’t help that I had no clue what I was doing and it certainly didn’t help that I was watching Jeffree Star makeup tutorials.
And with the women in my family (including myself), it wasn’t ever determined that the reason we wore makeup was to feel better about ourselves by blatantly saying makeup makes me feel better about myself. However, it was said subtly from time to time…
It makes me feel more put together.
It makes me feel more awake.
It makes me feel more feminine.
And when I wore it, I felt it made me feel more professional.
Back in 2016, I didn’t really think much about it. It was just what women around me did (both at home, in school, and in pop culture) so I didn’t really think anything of it until years later.
You know that moment when you wake up from autopilot and you’re like oh wait, I really don’t have to do something if I don’t want?
I cannot recall the exact moment. I know that, at one point, when I was getting ready for something—it all really started to feel like a chore. Something I didn’t enjoy and something I certainly wasn’t doing for myself—but for who?
Why did I feel like if I was going to dinner with friends at 7:00pm, that I needed to start getting ready at 4:00pm? Why did I feel like if I was leaving my dorm my hair had to be curled and a ponytail wouldn’t suffice? Why did I feel that I had to do all of these things—just to go do an activity?
It started to feel like one of those things that women feel inclined to do from some other source other than ourselves—but again, because of who or what exactly?
Society? Men? Family? Friends? Social media? Celebrities?
This was all so exhausting.
And for what?
For why?
Regardless of who or what the external source was (is), I was ready to do what I wanted and go about the way I put myself together on my own accord, not because it felt like I should do something just because.
And let me clarify (!) I really enjoy putting on makeup from time to time! I really do! When I want to! How I want to!
If I wanted to wear 30 pounds of makeup, it would be because I wanted to wear 30 pounds of makeup.
If I wanted to wear zero makeup, it would be because I wanted to not wear any makeup.
If I wanted to wear mascara and lip gloss, it would be because I wanted to wear mascara and lipgloss.
We all, women and men, make up (no pun intended) all of these invisible rules, regulations, and requirements on ourselves for absolutely no other reason than just because or I feel like I should. And those my friends, are terrible reasons to do anything.
All of this being said, I do not hate makeup nor have I ever hated it. I think what made me have a disdain for it at a time was because of the gnawing pressure to wear it everyday in order to be accepted or perceived as a put together and professional person out in the world.
That is what I hated. And that is why I started to care a lot less.
However, I still do care a tad.
And as a 26-year-old woman, I still have those weird, unhealthy feelings from time to time.
If I’ve had a job interview, I will put on more makeup than I would actually wear to the office on a day-to-day basis.
Why?
It feels ingrained in me that in order to be professional and put my best foot forward, I should wear a hint of makeup.
That’s wack, right?
I am a level-headed individual and recognize how absurd that is, but I can’t seem to shake it. I’m well on my way, but it feels as innate as brushing my teeth.
The problem I face is—I know I’m a capable and professional person—but will someone else know that if I’m presented as my raw self? Am I suddenly less professional and capable if I did an interview with no makeup, a grey sweatsuit on, and hair in a bun after a long run? Do these types of first impressions really matter?
I definitely don’t have the answers and am still figuring it out. I want (and want others) to do something because they want to do it, not because of external factors that cause them unwarranted and unnecessary stress.
If you’re at a work conference, you shouldn’t feel pressured to spend 2 hours on your outward appearance if they tell you to dress professionally. But if you want to spend 2 hours on your makeup and hair when they tell you to dress casually for pizza night in the hotel lobby, as long as you want to do whatever it is you want to do—do it!
You are professional and capable as you are; no makeup, makeup. No name brand clothes, or all the name brand clothes. No frills, or tons of frills. And this is something I am still reminding myself all the time.
“The only limits that exist are the ones you place on yourself.” —Unknown
Do you feel like you put invisible rules on yourself in your life?