A lot of females wear make up.
Young girls, teenagers, grown women.
Even I do.
But here’s what I think about it. Many people perceive make up as a distraction, a façade, an inadequate amount of acrylic paint poured over white canvas without any reason.
But no. Well at least most people do. But not me (and thousands of others too as I would like to believe).
When I look into the mirror every day, i see flaws. I see my scars, I see my growing acne, I see hyperpigmentation, uneven shapes and shades etc. That is what I see. I see unpleasantness. And when I see this every day, I feel insecure. I feel scared. I feel ugly.
So every time I stand in front of a mirror with concealer in hand, all I intend to do is to make myself feel confident again. I want to spare the judging eyes, the foul heart, the pure gazes from the agonising sight of seeing all my imperfections.
I conceal my flaws so that I would be able to step out of the house feeling pleasant. Safe. I use it as a defence mechanism, as assurance that at least amongst all the ugly things in me, my appearance is the one thing they can’t diss.
And I believe many girls can agree with me on this. While yes, there are others who love it and treat it as a form of art, but I believe that the majority of us use it to shy away from mediocrity and self-hate; just for a while.
It’s not a wonderful feeling to walk around knowing you have face full of concealer. You walk around carrying a lie for all to see, just so they would love you like how they love all the other beautiful things they set their eyes upon. But hey, not everyone’s born with perfect skin.
Sometimes, you just have to wing it.
"Don’t worry. When you are faced with hardship, you know God is with you. Worry when you are too happy.."
That’s when I prayed to be shown that He is with me. And indeed I was given the curse of Inner-Peace, adversity. To remind me where I truly belong; on the ground…
And then I felt whole again.
"No sugar, right?" He asked, as he set the tray in front of her.
“Yeah…” She answered as she picked up the paper cup, sighting no sign of sugar sachets on the tray. It wasn’t a question, it was reassurance that he knows.
A shy smile made its way onto her face.
He remembers. He remembers how I take my tea…
It’s silly she thinks back. Something so small as to whether or not she has sugar with her tea, could fill her tummy with butterflies.