It's skin deep...

For the entire month of December, I am participating in a "remove the makeup" challenge. This is a chance for women to show their true face, which usually lies beneath the facade of cosmetics. Or at least a reason for them to question why they participate in the daily ritual of hiding facial flaws and accentuating their "good" features. To ask themselves to redefine beauty, even.

Now this is not really a long stretch for me. I'm a low maintenance kinda gal for whom the application of face-paint is a relatively foreign concept. (When you're oft playing about in the wild, what's the point? You're just going to get dirty. Besides, blood and dirt have always felt sexier to me.)

In fact, I only learned HOW to put the stuff on in the last couple of years. But an interesting thing happened when I did try it out... Smokey eyes seemed to equal more sidelong glances from strangers. Lusciously coloured lips brought me numerous phone numbers from the the sort of fellows I am not looking for and would never actually call. But I can admit that sometimes a single gal appreciates that sort of attention. So yah, sometimes I'd lengthen the lashes, and glitterize my cheeks. I understand what it feels like to WANT to be wanted.

But since really making an effort to go without makeup entirely, I've noticed that I'm still getting attention from members of the opposite sex. But it's also weeding out some of the guys who acted as if they were just out looking for a random lay, and saw a "tarted up" gal as a more likely candidate. Truthfully, anyone who would rather see me in makeup than mud isn't really my type.

Confidence in ones identity, and beauty (inner and outer) is where it's at. Easier said than done, perhaps. But this is my wish for all. It has taken me years to get to this stage, and like many people, I still struggle with body image issues sometimes. Inner peace about these things is a lifelong goal, really. Ups and downs are to be expected.

So though I had doubts about going naked-faced last night to work (big x-mas party catering job where most people would be dolled up,) I forced myself to do it. It was the right decision. I was still beautiful, without the wasted time, and feelings of being enslaved to the cosmetic industry.

When I was a spinning instructor many moons ago there was one woman I will never forget... She wore copious amounts of perfectly placed makeup to every class. And her bleached hair was always sprayed just so. It made me sad.

But who am I to stand on a soapbox? I know I will cheat once this month. Our staff holiday party is themed "Nightmare Before Christmas." I put together a Tim Burton-esque outfit, and will be creepifying myself with much makeup. (I must have been a thespian, or some sort of burlesque girl in a past life. I love costumes.) So no, I'll never give up make-up entirely. There's a time and a place for it.

After the job last night, during a planned power outage in the wee hours of this morning, I ran. Through the dark, empty, streets. I stopped to stare up at the stars, and crater covered moon, in awe of the beauty that is all around us. The beauty that IS all of us. Wrinkles. Age spots. Pale lips, and all. The perfection of imperfection.