rethinking the 'look good'

little me in the first grade ~ 

I was already aware of the 'look good' at age seven. I can remember the photographer urging me to smile big, show my teeth! But I hated my little teeth and the gap between my two front teeth. My solution? Just hide them. Easy enough. Only, there is so much more going on when one tries to hide from the rest of the world. The thinking behind it all for me has always been this: what if I show you all my 'ugly' parts and you realize that I'm just not special enough to deserve your time, attention, or love?

It's a self-protection move, of course. Being the youngest of five children, with three of my siblings being older sisters, I was keenly aware of some of their struggles around confidence and self-esteem, and hoped to learn from them, so as not to incur any unnecessary hurt. Sounds smart, right? Only, I had no idea what path I was setting myself on at the time. First it was my teeth, then the darkness of skin, my weight, my hair that wouldn't feather like Farrah Fawcett's...on and on. Later on I would add many more 'issues' I believed I had. I wasn't smart enough, talented enough, well spoken enough. In fact, I started to think of these agreements as truths. Luckily, I found alcohol to buffer the insecurity I experienced. It magically removed any sharp edges I contended with, and instead replaced them with a soft and fuzzy barrier around me. I could no longer feel too much, as I had before. I was safely protected from what anyone else, including myself, thought. 

I was always one of those controlled drinkers. In fact, when I decided to quit drinking all together and join a recovery group over eight years ago, most of my family and friends didn't know that I had a problem. Most often, I would hide my drinking. I would wait till I put my kids down to bed and then go out on my deck and drink like I wanted to. As luck would have it though, my drinking started to have a mind of its' own. It no longer felt like a choice to drink. It started feeling like something I had to do in order to feel 'normal'. Now what?

I had a very close friend at the time who had recently joined a recovery program. Within a few months I could see a major change in her. She felt calmer, softer, less scared. She invited me to join her for a meeting one day, and that was the day that changed my life.

Removing substances from my life didn't change everything overnight. Rather, it opened up all types of hurts and resentments that had been building up for years and years. I was mostly responsible for all of these, since I was the one who agreed to, and in fact made up most of them. I sought out relationships that would keep me small, insecure, and confused. This allowed me to blame everyone else for how I felt. I continue to work actively at changing this narrative I've created. I began seeking out new friendships, questioned my motives as they pertained to my actions, and forgiving myself for not being my own advocate, not standing up for myself when others made comments that hurt. This is big work, or at least it has been for me.

Before getting MS, I believed that I had managed to let go of most of my 'look good'. I had a new relationship with a kind and loving man who didn't make me feel small or care (at all) how in shape my body was. To him, it seems, I was beautiful both inside and out, exactly as I was. I had two children who loved ME unconditionally. I had created a circle of friends who I could be radically honest with about real feelings. We didn't criticize others for fun. We worked hard not to put ourselves down. We felt secure in our vulnerability with each other. This was no easy fix either. It took me until my early  40's before I could even properly pronounce the word vulnerability, that's how uncomfortable it was for me. 

Today I find myself back at square one. Well, maybe more like square six or seven. MS has thrown a monkey wrench into my world. I sometimes walk with a limp when I'm tired. I often lose track of what I'm saying. I forget random things all the time. I don't always make it to the bathroom in time (thank goodness for Poise panty liners!) and I am almost always tired, which makes me feel sickly and old. How do you like me now?

I suppose my point in tying in my recovery with the 'look good' is that I know I've been here before. Admitting to all that I was, indeed, an alcoholic took courage. Owning that I couldn't control anything, let alone my drinking, was only the beginning of learning to let go of how things looked on the outside. So why do I struggle now, still, with worrying about what you think of me? Have I not been humbled enough already? 

Maybe I hadn't gotten as far along into letting go as I had thought. Surprise, surprise, there is more work to do! But that's okay too. If I go off past experience and remember how I got HERE, then I know that this too will ultimately bring me to a place of more self acceptance and love. No easy feat, but that's okay. I continue to be filled with curiosity and hope, two of my very best (new) friends.