Travelin' Oma's School Days Seminar

I ran across a link to this and decided to participate. It's 12 weeks, so that's three months of hopefully not pulling a blank on what to blog about. Right? Maybe?

First Day Homework Assignment: ~ Write a page about you. Introduce yourself. Prompt: If you were a character in your own book, what would your name be? Describe your inner self and your outer self. Prompt: "He saw her sneak into the classroom. She was ____, but he could tell she was____. . ."

Tough one. I chose it several minutes ago and I've been doing all kinds of avoidance surfing since.

OK! No more avoidance!

Jennifer

She had always seen her name as common, but herself, the essential Jennifer inside, as un-. As the years went by, however, and life's stressors increasingly left their mark on her face and body, she realized she was becoming invisible, just another overweight, middle-aged woman, easily tabulated and dismissed by the people she passed in the store or on the street.

When she was younger she'd fought - and thought she'd won - a battle with her self-image. Now, after only a few years respite, it was creeping up on her, worse than before. It was upsetting to look in the mirror and see just another dowdy, dumpy over-the-hill-type. It wasn't the person she expected to see there. That person was 15 years younger, intelligent, interesting. She had one chin, firm triceps, and no incipient lines shadowing her upper lip.

In self-defense, she started to avoid mirrors - a neat trick considering a giant mirror (longer than she was tall) nearly covered one wall of her bathroom. Naturally it was directly across from the shower.

The secret was to slide your eyes to the left as you undressed, staring at the Mr. Clean MagicReach where it stood propped in the corner where the tub and closet met. Take your glasses off before you turn toward the counter, keeping your eyes down lest you see even a blurry silhouette. She was safe once she was in the shower. There were no reflecting surfaces worth noticing there, and afterward steam covered the mirror.

Inside, she knew, she was still intelligent, still creative. She was capable, competent. But when she looked in the mirror and saw that fat, stupid face, dull, uninteresting, old, it was hard to remember what she really was. So she didn't look.

3 comments:

Travelin'Oma said...

Your post touched my heart. It's awesome to read such honesty—we can all relate. We're supported when we know we're not alone in our life experiences.

You've actually described me. My 60th birthday is coming up Sunday, and I know the person I think I am is not who people see. It's hard to realize I'll never be cute and young again (unfortunately I didn't know until recently that I actually was young and cute back then.) I feel like you've given me a hug as I leave my youth!

Cari Hislop said...

I don't mind looking in mirrors as long as I don't have to see what I'm wearing. I'm on another diet because all my loose clothes became too tight hence the fight-fat, but I think at the end of the day it's the clothes we wear that other people relate to. My wardrobe never recovered the move to England. If I like the clothes over here they're so expensive it's like...I'll have that shirt and skirt for this year's ration... if I can afford them they probably look like hooker-wear.

Yes I sew and I'm lazy but the fabric is usually expensive or ugly. I went on line to look for alternatives and it's so depressing. Coming up to 40 one shouldn't dress like a twenty-somthing (women just look stupid who do that - they make me cringe) but at the same time there seem to be only frump-wear...it's depressing! Like some giant conspiracy...I say frump-wearers unite... I need to get off my b. u. t. and get sewing, but I think there's a part of me that doesn't think I deserve to look nice or something...that self esteem monster is a hydra, cut off one head nine more appear...evil thing. I think deep down I think I deserve to look like a frump, but that's not me. Weirdo-freak yes...frump no!

You're a beautiful woman, but you've always found that hard to believe. Put on that brownish red lipstick, brush your hair and tell that mirror to beep...to a hot place. Let's not going to go down without a fight. I'm going to do some sewing today...operation: rescue self esteem. I'm going to bite the bullet and order some of the funky things I really like off Etsy. I'm going to do it; order some funky Cari-stuff because I'm worth it! Really! I think...

Remember you're a hardcore autumn! You look beautiful in brownish colours...oranges...reds...greens..
yellows...ivory... Wearing colours that don't suit us just washes us out so even if the style is good the colour makes it a negative. I may look frumpy, but I do make sure I wear my spring colours...unless I just HAVE to wear orange...I'm back into orange (as if I was ever off it). I need some orange tights! Happy freakdom here I come!!! I have four pairs of red tights...all I need is to be able to fit into them. I think maybe its time I started sewing a different skirt too...being lazy I've been making the same A line sirt in various lengths and fabrics for years...maybe I need a princess seam...or something?

Cannwin said...

Do you need a phone call from your little sister? The one whose seeing the first signs of gray hairs and wrinkles and is quite possibly done having children since her body seems to be protesting to the umpteenth degree (still speaking transfusion induced chinese over here).

I woke up this morning and spent the next hour hollaring at my children... I know all about invisibility, especially when you spend three hours cleaning (deep cleaning) a room and the family comes home and spends two minutes destroying it.

What happened to the days when women sequestered themselves during their monthly cycles? I'd start lying about having one if it meant I could go off by myself.