I did something today I had not done in years; I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. At length. Normally I spend maybe two minutes per day in front of a mirror; clothes clean and no labels hanging out, I am good to go. An occasional evening out may inspire me to put on some make-up, but that would extend the mirror time to maybe five minutes. It is not that I do not care what I look like, I just have better things to do with my time—my appearance is simply not high on my list of priorities.
When I was younger I did stand in front of a mirror regularly, usually right after I had brushed my teeth. I would clutch my toothbrush in my hand and very seriously rehearse the highlight of my life to come: my Oscar acceptance speech. Mind you, I can not have been more than 12 years old, so it is debatable what made it more comical; my thick Dutch accent or the little bubbles I would involuntary blow due to my ever so charming braces. Needless to say I did not grow up to be the next Meryl Streep, all that practice has gone to waste.
So, what brought on this recent bout of self examination? It was an offhand remark I made when a friend showed me some pictures she had taken of me recently. Seeing myself the way others view me, made me realise that my take on reality in this area is flawed to say the least. Suddenly I was reduced to features, shades of colours, and angles; an objective record of a frozen moment in time. And I thought it looked nothing like me.
We all have an image of ourselves, based on what we hold most important. And even if I am not delusional when it comes to my physical appearance, I forget at times that most people do not see beyond the obvious. The, at times, obnoxious approach of random males is a good reminder of the fact that most people will only notice I am tall, blonde and female. The males are annoying, but easily dismissed and I don’t really rate their advances as human interaction.
Women look at each other completely differently; what you wear, how you wear it, that and your level of self confidence are immediately assessed and processed when you walk into a room. I am usually forgiven for being a foreigner, even if that gets me undeserved extra attention. Not because the other girls think I am nice, the fact that I am older makes me less of a threat in their books. Maybe I should be offended that I am not considered any kind of competition, but I actually like that, it means I get to hang out with the girls without them being mean or catty.
It can be strange to be judged solely on your looks. A while ago I was introduced to the trusted summer Cairo tradition—spending the weekend in Sahel. A thriving and popular spot in Marina was our destination and I actually was the only white person on the beach. It was strange, people stared, and not in a good way. Resigning myself to be the odd one out for the day I adopted the policy of stare since being stared at, and managed to have a great time observing the social interaction going on all around me.
Over the years I have gotten used to what I look like, I am familiar with that woman in the mirror, I know her well. So why was it that I thought I looked nothing like myself in those photos? As I was staring in the mirror I realised the reason was simple, when I think of myself, I think of who I am. And that is not in any way defined by what I look like.
I tend to see others in the same way; I often do not remember the exact features of a person after I have only met them once, unless they have a really big nose or are very crossed-eyed. It is more likely I will remember their sense of humour, or lack thereof, or an interesting story they had to tell.
The image that is conjured up in my head when I think of myself is of a kind, yet sarcastic, funny, seldom cruel, slightly pompous, but often smiling woman. And that was not at all what I saw in those pictures. And since I tend to blurt out my thoughts without thinking, the sentence that popped in my head immediately fell out of my mouth–causing great hilarity among my friends.
I am much cuter in my head, than I look in pictures. There, that is my confession for this month.
You are super cute!