me, myself: friend or foe?
Monday, September 20 
I’ve been waiting for a book I placed on hold at the library for weeks now. It’s a best seller called Women, Food and God, by Geneen Roth. My mom has been steadily losing weight this past year and raved about the book, explaining that it’s about a woman who struggled with food issues her whole life, then freed herself through a spiritual journey of self-examination. And although I struggled with bulimia for 10 years during my teens and early 20s, I have a pretty healthy relationship with food now. So it was something else she told me about the book that caught my attention: Roth says that for most women, if we were to have a friend who says to us the awful things we say to ourselves, we would never be friends with that person.
At first, I discounted that. Maybe most women beat up on themselves, but I’m MUCH more evolved than that. But it must have bothered me at some level, because I began to pay attention to my own incessant brain chatter, the things I tell myself:
Getting a haircut: Wow, is the light really harsh in here? I had no idea I was so ugly. The hairdresser must think I’m ugly too. I wish I would’ve at least put on a little makeup.
Receiving an awesome birthday card with a picture of me on the front: Holy shit! Do I really have that many wrinkles? I look terrible! FINE. From here on out I’m not smiling or moving my face anymore.
Looking at the 20-something sales reps walk by my desk at work: I’ll never be that cute again. (Sigh.)
Shopping with a friend who spontaneously bought us both silver “girlfriend” rings: Well, if the skin on your hands wasn’t already paper thin and crinkly like a 90-year-old, maybe this ring would look good on you...Where’s a mirror? Your neck is probably falling too.
While I occasionally find myself thinking I’m an imposter at work, or questioning my competence as a parent, much of my self-abuse centers around how I look. So rather than plastic surgery, here’s what I would really like: I would like to surgically remove the part of my brain where vanity reigns. There I’ll be, furry armpits and legs, no lipstick or eyeliner, no hair highlights to blend the gray, a slight but definite mustache and bushy eyebrows, dry and mottled skin, I’ll wear the same clothes for years until they wear out…And be happy as can be, because I don’t even know what insecurity — the stuff that vanity feeds off of — is. Take THAT Revlon! Piss off, Banana Republic! Go design Tupperware, plastic surgeon! Check out my adorable belly fat, abdominator for only $19.95!
Just think, if women banded together and went au naturale, we could put a serious hurt on the world economy. Such power! Not only that, if vanity were banished from my life, think of all the time I’d have to develop things like depth of character.
Seriously though, the whole thing makes me a little sad, because I think Roth has a point. I look at pictures of myself at 20 and think how soft and pretty I was, but I certainly never thought so then. I look at me at 30, a tired, young mom, and see the good. How come I couldn’t then? Am I going to live my whole life like this? When I’m 80 and look back on images of myself at 42, will I regret how I saw myself, and the wasted time that left me unable to be all I could be, both for myself and others?
I’m not suggesting I lie to myself (“Your belly is hotness on two legs. You should totally be wearing a bikini in public — also, with a bootie like yours you could be arrested for not wearing a thong.”), or that any woman should. But a best friend is the one who helps you know that perceived flaws aren’t really a big deal, and that there’s so much to celebrate. The older I get, the clearer I am about who I want to be with myself — what I do and don't want to waste my time worrying about. It’s just the getting there and retraining a brain that is apparently perfectly comfortable with shallow nastiness that’s hard.
END NOTE: Do men engage in mean self-talk? I'm curious about that.
Also, navel gazing posts like this are a bit embarrassing. Not sure why, since I discuss plenty of things here. Maybe it's the whole Stuart Smalley from Saturday Night Live nature of the post. Remember Stewart and his affirmations? "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it! People like me."
Reader Comments (15)
OK, I will wisely refrain from commenting on the internal workings of the female brain. However, lets take "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it! People like me." and parse it out.
"I'm good enough." - Nope, disagree. Take a look at your boys and how they're turning out. Take a look at the quality of your husband. The quality of your life. You are so far beyond "good enough" that you can't even see it.
"I'm smart enough" - Take a look at your body of work here on the blog, which is just a small subset of the example material I could draw on. It's my opinion that you are one of the smartest women that I know. (Bonus material: there's nothing sexier than an intelligent woman. One of the many reasons I find your Aunt so attractive)
"People like me." - Yes, we do.
I second brother John , and I would totally buy matching silver girlfriend rings for us. Maybe at christmas we should get matching nose rings. lol You go girl we love you.
That internal critic is such a bitch. I often think pretty much the exact same things. You should read Nora Ephron's book, "I Feel Bad about My Neck." At least it will have you laughing. Also, yesterday on CBS Sunday Morning, there was a segment with Jamie Lee Curtis. She is 51 and has not had a face lift, has not blown up her lips to look like a duck, doesn't even dye her hair (unless she streaks it gray). She's my new hero. The beginning of wrinkles on her face, her neck skin is doing what it normally does after 50 years of living and she looks fabulous!
And BroJohn is right.
With all due respect for my husband, sons, and other men I'm fond of, this is the self-talk I think men engage in:
"Wow, I'm really the best looking guy in the room! And I think I may be the smartest too. Damn, I'm funny."
This is what I think men are thinking when they talk to other men:
"Wow, you are the best looking guy in the room (except for me)! And dude, I think you may be the funniest and smartest too (present company excepted.)"
And this is what I think men are thinking when they talk to women:
"La,la,la,la - BREASTS! - la,la,la,la"
I don't have scientific proof of course, with the exception of the obese, shirtless man I saw this summer with a tattoo above his backside that said "Ladies Dig This."
Now excuse me, I've got to go pluck those coarse hairs that grow out of my chin.
Mara, you make some very good points. I can't stop laughing
BrotherJohn: Wow. I just don't know what to say. Thank you? That's one of the nicest comments I've ever received? Both of those...
SDA: Good idea! And thanks :)
FaveAuntie: I've read Ephron's book, and really couldn't relate until a few years ago, when I would look at certain images of myself and see "angles" I didn't like. (OMG, is that a JOWL developing?!) Also, we need more movie stars out there like Jamie Lee Curtis. I think Meryl Streep falls into the category of aging naturally, gracefully and beautifully as well...
Mara: You just slayed me. Seriously. I should just copy and paste that as a "guest post." Surely you got a photo of the "Ladies Dig This" guy with your camera phone?
I do like Stewart Smalley, he was so damn cute. Strangely enough I had this conversation with a friend the other day about the same thing as this post, about telling my snarky with myself nasty brainchatter to do something useful or shut the hell up. It must be pretty prevalent. Guys do it too, but it centers around different things of course. (ahem,its not what you are thinking sheeesh)
I would also get matching silver girlfriends rings with you and wear one on my seriously hairy knuckled hands with pride. Well, I'd better go now, I have to shave my toes.
Sadly, the gentleman with the lovely tattoo did not get into a position where I could (ahem) discretely snap a picture. But believe you me, it is burned into my retinas for the rest of my life.
What timing - I turned 56 today. You could raise bats in the wattles under my chin, and I have a graceful hammock of spare 'muscle' swinging below my triceps, and even though I have no extra weight, I'm channeling the Pillsbury Dough Boy around my belly button. But I truly do not give a flying rip about it. Life is truly richer than that.
My grandmothers were my heroines, and they were breathtakingly handsome to me. My grandma Louise had hands that, objectively and years later, I guess were pretty gnarled, but those are the hands I want. (Goodie for me; I'm getting them, even sooner than I expected...)
I think mortality is whispering, saying that what matters is inside. Heart stuff. Mind stuff. I believe it.
But Megan, I gotta tell you - every time I see you, I'm struck at how damn cute you are. No, deeper than cute. There's a true beauty to you, and I recognize you're not 28, but you're moving forward with a physical grace that's noticeable. (Plus, you can f*ing RUN a jillion miles!) (And write circles around the rest of us!)
Thought she was the only one with hairy knuckles and toes.
Another excellent, relevant and insightful piece.
As my daughter has been growing up, I remind her that she is beautiful, smart and powerful. I want her to remain above the insecurities that compell young women to engage in self-destrucitve behavior, or become slaves to current trends and fads. I want her to stand on her own, be authentic and happy with who she is inside.
Which is an ironic statement and effort from a woman who constantly wonders if I'm good enough - at my job, as a wife, as a friend, and most importantly, as a mother.
Thanks for writing this.
Pooknelle: I still remember the horror of first discovering a downy layer sprouting on my big toe. "But, but, there must have been some haywire programming here — I'm a girl!" I remember thinking, right before I grabbed my razor.
Mara: I'll bet!
NLWD: Hey, happy belated birthday! A fellow virgo, to boot. (I'm not really into astrology, but I am always struck by the kinship I feel towards certain people, only to discover they are virgos, of course.) p.s. Your comments made me laugh.
SDA: Runs in the family, no?
Catootes: Your daughter is surely well prepared to deal with all the shallow "shoulds" we women face, with you as her mom...
I love this! Perfect day for my first visit!
PS - I'm a Bozeman girl too, though I don't live there anymore, sadly. I miss it! ;-)
Thanks, GucciMama! Yes, I've missed Bozeman during points in my life when I've moved away, too...Thanks for stopping by :)
Witty & Insightful, as always, Megan. I've often wondered why we are so hard on ourselves. Not just from a vanity perspective but in judging ourselves harshly as mothers, friends, wives - women in general. Things that we would never allow our friends to berate themselves for or call personal failures, we consistently hold ourselves accountable for. Why? What good comes from it? Can't we just accept that we're doing the best we can and that we will never be the perfect example of the woman that we picture in our minds?