It’s not news that I need to stick to routines- remember when I went to the caravan without the handbag and therefore the keys? Or when I went away without some of life’s little essentials? Long term readers may even recall that I went to work one day and left the front door wide open. All day…
I thought I was organised in Dublin. I’d made all the lists. I’d done the resting. I set the alarm to give me plenty of time in the morning. I had everything I needed- even the teeny ipod and speaker to keep me sane.
All would have been well had I just followed my normal drawing on a face routine. Why would I think that this was a good time to try something new? By starting with eyeliner, I scooted through eyeshadow, mascara and, ta dah, done! I always finish with mascara. Even, it seems, when I’ve changed the order. I forgot about the start. No foundation, no blusher. No dewy complexion or shape.
People, I chatted to patients, policy big wigs, and professionals. I sat on a panel. My face has been recorded for posterity.
With only half my make up on.
No mask to hide behind. No facade of confidence.
No pretending to look ‘together’ or ‘coherent’. Just a blotchy pale face, pores and the Rudolph spot exposed to the world.
I would have freaked out if I’d known. There would have been panic and tears and all sorts of anxiety at being so exposed.
Happily, I didn’t realise until bedtime. Not paying attention to the mirror has unexpected advantages.
A week on, I’m still fascinated by this. I didn’t need to have make up on to feel respectable and as if my voice needed heard; I just needed to think I had make up on. I would never in a fit, have done it deliberately, but it happened and the world didn’t end. Nobody laughed at my pores or dismissed me because I was blotchy. People were interested in my experience, in what I had to say, not in my half drawn on face. I don’t need the fake face to feel confident and valued.
Even so, I’ll not change that routine again.