Makeup.

I wake up to a smeared, rougher face than the night before or a face that seems naked and crude. I examine the damage, see what needs to be done. I gloss over the battlefield. I fix the potholes with liquid cement. I photoshop my face. my eyelashes are liars, every one of them. False flushes, exagerrated eyebrows. I guess you could say I'm two faced.
It started out simple, as many addictions do. In 6th grade I always wore a hat. Always. I hated my math teacher because he made me take it off. It created a shadow on my face, it hid it but still showed it. Oh make up can do the same thing? Well then, I'll try that instead of being called "hat girl" and worrying about fancy dress situations. So I put it on, I slapped it on, I caked it on.
"Wow your skin looks so much better!" my friend said to me when I met her at the movies with my newly acquired face. Here's where it started.
So then I began to experiment. I met all the wrong colors and they broke my heart when I didn't blend in. But, I found a replacement hat.
And while I repair myself, I feel better with every brush stroke. I admire myself more with every color that does not belong to me. I only reveal myself when I am hidden. It's lonely. Seeing other girls with smooth skin and clear complexions. Girls that emerge out of water with no runny black night of the living dead eyes , no flesh colored sticky droplets. Girls that wear their hair back confidently with no borders. blank canvases that do not need paint, they simply make you say "ah this is nice" like you are in a modern art museum and you just don't question it. Girls that can go camping and go to sleep without the concern of their face falling off in the fresh air. Girls that can press up against white shirts and pillows with no anxiety. Girls that can be up close in the sun light, unweary in flourescent light, unchanged by any light.
Oh but here I am, foundation in the pool, self tanner rolling down my neck at the gym. Mascara while I sleep so you won't see. Here I am, absolutely terrified coming out of the shower when my boyfriend has decided to surprise me and drop by. Here's to every "I've never seen you without makeup" and me pretending to not have makeup on when I really do, they call it the "natural look." Here's to my confidence in various containers and packaging. Here's to my plan B when I run out. Here's to an airbrushed culture. Here's my weakness and my strength. Here's everything laid out in front of you, and on my face.
So in highschool I got a little better at it, a little more comfortable at hiding the flaws. I took notes on liquid eyeliner, on primers. I banished shine with powders that made me cough. I made sure to wipe my lips and eyebrows after I did this. And I did this every day.
In P.E. I would retreat to the bathroom after running a mile. Touch up sweat, clog my pores some more so I could just keep covering them again. and in the winter when we would watch videos about teen suicide and anorexia I would think "good thing I don't have to sweat."
One boy would say over the recovering starving girl with cotton candy hair from the 80's, "I don't get girls that are anorexic. Just feed them a frickin bagel!"
Oh, yeah, like it's that easy. Like all of her built up images of herself are just going to say screw it, I'll eat today. Like I'll just wipe off my face, fresh from the shower and go out in public. But thanks for your input.
To all you girls melting in the sun, going to the pool just to tan and not actually swim, touching up after exercise, waking up early to fix yourself so your significant other won't know, I respect you. and I am envious of the bare faced. How nice to be able to not have a drop of artificial on you, and that's brave even if you don't really think about it. But it's also brave to throw a bunch of colors on your face of all places, trying to create something of it and hope it looks good. Lady with way too much blue eye shadow and lip liner that's anything but the color of your lips, I respect you too. You're still putting your face out there. You're still trying your two toned best even though your perspective is challenged. You put it on because you feel your best when you do, even if bratty thirteen year old girls laugh at you behind your back, or, in front of your face.
I know makeup will never leave me. I know it can make red seem peach, and pale seem sun kissed. It's you, but enhanced right? I know I use it as a crutch, but I have to wonder if I would even be handicapped if I stopped using it. I love you makeup, I really do, but I hate you too.