botox

the other day this happened:

here in the remote wilderness of a town less than 1,000 people, far from anything resembling cosmopolitan…

i walked in on a conversation with women orbiting my age…they were lamenting their appearance. one actually said she cannot stand looking in the mirror, and as long as she doesn’t, she’s fine.

i was honestly floored. floored.

i had this naive notion of this town, in order to live a successful happy life here, you just have to come to terms with yourself. there is so much more to living in this atmosphere, in this landscape, in this territory, than your physical appearance. perhaps it is why i feel so connected to it.

so when i heard that these women,whom i have admired for their perceived fortitude, were seriously talking about botox…i found it to be ________.

i feel no better, or no worse, but all sorts of mixed up.

really…botox? i’m sweating over choosing the right sunscreen. i’m sweating over finding enough time to turn myself into what i am aiming to be. i’m looking to do it through sweat, and sacrifice, and skincare products, and sunshine, and joy…and i never for an instant considered that it might take something more.

it is not that the conversation made me suddenly think about plastic surgery for myself…

it’s just that i’d like to find a different emotion (than sad) to attach to my friends that feel that way. and if my people are feeling like that here….what in tarnation are all my other friends thinking that are actually facing each day in the lion’s den?

bummed.