Plain Jane
As I’m writing this, my face is covered in make-up,
which it tends to do around 2 or 3x a year, usually coinciding with photo
shoots or somebody’s child’s birthday. Most other days, I just slap on a
concealer and some lip moisturizer and call it a day.
What strikes me as funny (and it’s been weighing on my
mind lately, you’ll know why in a minute) is because my rush photo shoot was
because a senior colleague at the Society inquired if I may like to change my
photo. The photo they had been using presented me under an unflattering light. I
remember that the new members were rushed into submitting a photo with a blue
blazer that very same afternoon and we were herded outside the back door of the
stage under some alleyway to take a photo in someone else’s blazer. I don’t
wear make-up, my face does tend to get dumpy under poor lighting and my eyebags
(unless hidden by a mountain of concealer) get magnified and emphasized.
Just remembering why I had to retake my photo in the first place brought up all the other times I was pushed aside or overlooked because of the way I looked. I wasn’t ugly, I certainly wasn’t repulsive or weird-looking… I was just plain. And in our industry where appearances sometimes matter as much as your demeanor and your IQ, it is unforgivable that you look “homely”.
“Doctor ka ba manamit/mag-ayos?!” I can hear the voices
inside my head echo whenever I face myself in the mirror – before a patient
call, before a long clinic day, before I went into the blue Vios to be driven
to Jerry to my hospitals of practice.
It was this homely nature coupled with my general shy
and wallflower-y nature that I suffer through some of the WORST torturous
moments in the past few years – that ironically, I have Covid to thank for not
being made to go through anymore.
But not me, I am an afterthought. They notice my presence probably 3 minutes into the conversation.
---
When I joined Wildfit around 3 weeks ago now, it wasn’t
just because I had some money to spare. I was
also genuinely aching for a change. A REAL turnaround.
Not something that I participated in because it seemed “uso” or because I was egged on by others. It was because I was willing to commit to it…
As if that plain Jane in me refuses to paint itself into a corner anymore. I want to BE SEEN. Not because of others but because I NEEDED to celebrate me.
I get caught up sometimes in the “want”, the “urge” to
be beautiful.
God knows I’m not alone. The crowds who were aghast and threw figurative bananas at Belo’s pandemic beauty ad (see pic below) – shows I’m not alone.
Meaning that despite my limitations, or even because of it, all the more I need to treasure and take care of who I AM. I can only bring the gift I am to others if I recognize it myself.
And call it out, bring it to the fore – again and
again and again.
Until the voices that whispered and egged my
insecurities, colored the interpretations I have of people around me (or lack
thereof haha) --- grew smaller and smaller. Not because I shouted them into
submission but because I KNEW, deep deep down, that it didn’t matter.
That only ONE voice and ONE opinion does.
I strongly feel that this internal change will bring
about my external changes as well…
That even though others may see a homely shell, the
way I feel inside will be fantastic.
It will carry over to the way I hold myself, see
myself, express myself.
And even if others don’t see it, the fact that I DO and my
CHILD DOES, is enough.
Wish me luck!
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