I didn’t know there was a problem with my nose until I was 24. Really and truly. I walked around this planet for 24 years wearing that thing in front of my face and I never once noticed anything awry in the mirror. But I learned better that fateful spring morning.
A new mom, I had taken my nine-month old to the park to “play” (Who was I kidding? The kid was a veritable potted plant, except I had to keep turning him away from the sun instead of towards it. Didn’t want him to get sunburned, you see. In Seattle. In March. Like I said, new mom.) when a stranger struck up a conversation with me. She was also a mom of a little boy, who was enthusiastically ignoring all the cool playground equipment and eating the woodchips instead, and she lived in my neighborhood.
As our conversation progressed she declared to me, in a way that strangers only do with other strangers, that she was actually at the park because she was going in for plastic surgery that afternoon. Usually she worked, you see, but had taken a “vacation” to get “it” fixed. And “these” she whispered despite us being the only ones in the whole park, gesticulating at her smallish chest. “That’s for my husband.”
“Ever since I was 14, I’ve been saving money to get my nose done,” she explained. “And now I’m 28. It’s about time!” I nodded sympathetically as I squinted at her nose. It looked… just like my nose.
“What are they going to fix?” I asked, hoping she would say a deviated septum or something.
“OMG! THIS!” She stuck her face in my face. A bump on the bridge of her nose came into focus.
“Oh, okay,” I mumbled. The damage was done. As soon as I got in the car, I checked my nose in the rear view mirror. Bump? Yep. (Go ahead, scroll up & look at my pic. It’s there!) When I walked in my house, I dropped wee Potted Plant on the floor in front of some toys and ran to my big mirror to examine my schnoz from every angle.
Where did that bump come from? Surely as a child I had that little button nose that children are, well, famous for. I broke my nose falling off a hammock in sixth grade – was that when it happened? How had I never noticed it before? Was that why Jake broke up with me my freshman year of college? I mean all he said was “This doesn’t feel right.” but maybe he meant “Your nose is hideous! I can’t pass that genetic freak show on to my kids!”
My kids! I ran out to look at Potted Plant. He had a tiny perfect ski-jump nose. Gerber-baby cute if not for the perpetual stream of snot that oozed from it. I sighed with relief but made a mental note to be on the lookout for it as he grew up. Although, I rationalized, he was a boy and the world is more forgiving of mogul-ed noses on men.
After that, I had to check my profile in every reflective surface that came my way. I’m sure people thought I was the vainest woman they’d ever seen. Vain I was not. Terrified is what I was. My husband assured me that he loved me in spite of it which only led me to realize that he’d seen my bump all along and NEVER told me about it!
The Playground Lady’s voice echoed through my head for weeks. Until.
Until I talked to my friend Marianne, pouring out all my trite yet expansive worries on her shoulder. When I finished she laughed her butt off, pointed to her own nose that could best be described as Jewish (which she was), and replied “That’s why I accessorize with expensive shoes.” Her ability to laugh at and even embrace her “flaw” completely changed my perspective.
Why am I telling you this story? Because it is important how we talk about our bodies. Even if it is just to a stranger but especially if it is in front of our children. We should also take care in talking about other people’s bodies. I’m convinced that our extreme criticism of celebrities only eats away at our own self-worth.
Two and a half years ago, I decided to try a little experiment and cut out TV and movies. That’s right – all of ’em. Once I got over wondering what was happening on Grey’s anatomy, it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. But the biggest change was how I felt about myself. Once I wasn’t bombarded with “America’s Next Top Model” and “Hollywood’s Top 50 Sexiest Women” and even the more subtle super-skinny-and-oh-so-empowered Dr. Meredith Grey, I felt better about who I was. Although I still struggle with liking myself – you all know how I do! – cutting out the TV made a huge difference in helping me think more positively about myself. I didn’t even realize how far I’d come until I spoke to an old friend who was punishingly critical of her (beautiful) post-baby body and was able to show her my tiger-claw/stretch marks with love and even pride.
Have you ever “caught” a body insecurity from someone else? What’s your secret to having a good self-image?
Thursdays are the Greatest Hits of the Great Fitness Experiment. This post originally ran in November 2007.
I actually was called to the ER one evening to evaluate a young Hispanic man who had sustained a fractured nose. After examining him, I concluded that nothing was wrong with his nose. "No, doctor, I had a bump on my nose before the accident and now it's gone!" OK, then, I numbed his nose and using an elevator type of instrument, I restored his nose to what it was. Now he's probably off somewhere in a playground, maybe Seattle, with someone telling him his nose needs to be fixed. Second chances just don't come along every day in life.
Wow- I have such a similar story! Some adult commented in my youth about how my sister had such a "perfect" nose. My interpretation was my nose=un-perfect.
Then a year ago I was able to get some pictures from my Aunt of my father's family. They all died when I was very young. I never met most of them. But as I looked at the pictures, they all had my nose! I suddenly felt a connection to family I had never known and it felt wonderful!
I still have my days. But now I also have Giada DeLaurentiis (the sexy italian cook) who has a similar nose, to use for reinforcement.
Now I am working on getting over my leg issues (too thick).
I never noticed your nose before, but now that I have, I really have to say: I like it. Myself, I always like long noses.
See, if your nose was tiny, some mean long-nosed person would tease you for "not having a nose" and leave a scar on your psyche that way. (It's not like I can get a nose extension of something.)
Oh, that picture!!!!!
Excuse me while I freak out for a minute…
OK.
I remember learning, as a kid, that thinking anything positive about myself was considered to be "conceited." And conceited was the worst thing you could be as a girl. (It was OK for boys.)
Chief among those thoughts were looks: if you were a girl and liked your looks, you were a conceited snob. Unworthy to live.
(Unfortunately,I learned my lessons well.)
Now, though, I find "perfect" features boring. When I first met my husband he had a severe underbite, and I thought it was the sexiest thing ever!
(Then he got braces. But he's still hot!)
your nose? let me introduce you to mine 🙂
It screams Im seriously 100% Jewish and there is nary a question about THAT after you see my proboscis 🙂
I did go through a little while of noseloathing as well (thanks people for pointing it out. gotta love 13 yo) but then decided Id embrace (thanks barbra streisand) and move on.
for me it was an important step (step 2? see loving the small boobs) to getting to selflove.
I never realized just how bad I was until I was talking in front of my niece who is 5. I just hadn't thought about how I talk about my body and what message I send to others and to the littler people in my life. I sure adn conscious of it now! Something to work on, right?
Media. Oh, great media. Why are we trying to follow people that look like they're damagine their organs they're so thin? I'll never know. But, I fall into the trap too. *sigh*
At 12 or 13, I was confident enough to say that I had a perfect bikini body. My sisters quickly squashed that conifdence.
Charlotte, I had the same realization as you: I cut out all women's magazines – even the women's health and fitness because they're just as bad as the fashion mags – and I rarely watch anything on television that isn't a documentary (Ugly Betty being the only exception).
There are so many other reasons TV undermines my psyche, but the portrayal of super-thin women is enough. And, it's not even a matter of feeling that I'm being shown an unrealistic ideal and making me insecure – because who gives a crap what advertisers want us to think? Honestly, I can't stand to look at them because they're painful to see! I'm not trying to skinny-bash, I'm saying that seeing a person who is 30 pounds underweight, with a frail little stiff body and sunken eyes isn't pleasant.
It's hard to detach from all the conditioning we've been given, but I think it helps to remember that all these unrealistic ideals are not in fact ideals! They are marketing devices – if there was more profit in promoting fatness, you can bet all those same commercials, TV shows, magazines, models, and actresses would suddenly glorify it and outdo themselves in the race to gain a few more pounds.
The one I struggle with is the signs of aging. (Though I don't struggle enough to actually DO anything, other than apply sunscreen).
I inherited a tendency to wrinkle young, and I keep getting new little surprises every time I look at a mirror. I try to shrug it off, but I have to say that seeing celebrities who are 30 years older than I am with much smoother faces makes it harder to to accept my own wrinkly face. I FEEL like I'm about 25 yet look like I'm 60 on some days.
Good thing my memory's going too–5 seconds after I see my reflection I totally forget to be discouraged about it!
I had a similar experience with eyebrows. I liked mine until everyone started getting them waxed. I felt horrible about my eyebrows for a while…then I grew up and got over it.
Yesterday my four year old son pointed to the middle of my tummy and asked, "Why do you have that big fat there?" I didn't know he even knew that word because I don't use it. I first replied, "Where? I don't see it." (I really didn't think my rolls were THAT noticable.) He pointed it out, "That big fat right there." I replied, "When you and your brother and sisters were in my tummy, you needed something to protect you if you got bumped." He smiled. "Thanks, Mom."
Jeez, I wish I could help you! I struggle with insecurity all the time! Maybe I should stop watching anything & reading those fitness mags!
I am with MizFit on the nose thing but I still want to get it fixed.. have not accepted it yet and also with Crabby on the age thing. Yup, I can keep most but not all of the bod fit by working out like a maniac as I age, but the face… I hate to say but I still have so many things I would love to fix on it & wish I had money to be at the dermatologist once a week.
Can you help me now??? Do you seem less insecure after reading my rant??? 🙂
I hate that we think that differences are imperfections. Why can't uniqueness be beautiful? I don't watch a lot of TV, but I really like What Not to Wear because it's all about embracing what makes each woman unique and playing it up- not about losing weight or blending in.
that picture has had me cringing all day…
I recently read "You'd Be So Pretty If…" and have been trying to stop talking about my body. My daughter is still young, but I don't want her to ever think that there is anything imperfect about her!
My secret to having good self image? I wish I had one! A bad self image day can completely ruin a great day. I've recently moved to a big metropolitan city and work in the downtown core. Here, the women look fabulous, they are 10-20lbs lighter than the average in other cities and dress to kill. It hurts so much sometimes you want to throw out your wardrobe, stop eating all together and avoid walking the streets alongside them. The look is expensive to obtain (the city job doesn't pay that well and rent is RETARDED) and the physique is almost impossible for me to acheive.
I find my best self-image days are when I am outdoors… backpacking in the wilderness with nothing but my body and my wits (bears, racoons, mosquitoes, black flies, getting lost, physical endurance, the cold, sleeping on the ground, dips in freezing cold lakes…) I am sweaty, smelly, greasy, dirty, unshaven but I feel like an amazon. A sexy, hardcore girl that could survive anything.
… I try to remember that when I walk these urban streets. Urban cats are beautiful but they could survive in the real jungle.
I guess what I am trying to say is that the secret to a great self image is not measuring your self worth against your image but against what you do, who you are. (I sound like an after school special…)
Oh dear! I've had those moments of running home to gawk at something in the mirror. Not fun, I get so down on myself. The good thing is that these moments always pass. Like when you turn on the news and realize there are bigger problems in the world!
There was this quote scribbled in a staircase once, that resonated with me, "Life is too short. Tell your insecurities to fuck off."
My head is all in turmoil today, so I'm not particularly coherent, but I CAN say that I feel MUCH better if I turn off the d*mn TV. MUCH. Even if I still read the trashy magazines.
Also, I almost cried at Shellie's comment. I'm SO STEALING THAT response for when I have kids.
Heh, it IS contagious. I grew up totally oblivious until friends started voicing their insecurities.
But I'll never forget when the mother of the kids I was nanny to stared at the stretch marks on MY thighs and asked me what they were. Thank God those marks aren't something that REALLY bother me, because otherwise that would have been totally devastating. We gotta appreciate ourselves!
an acquaintance of mine was super insecure about her breasts and wanted to get an augmentation. it made me start to look at my own breasts in a different light. my mom had always glorified small breasts, so i grew up without much insecurity about them. around the time when i started to notice that my breasts were, in fact, very small, it seemed that others caught on to that fact as well. ive had girls and guys joke about my flatness. thats the worst part – when people CONFIRM your insecurity.
My secret – gain a bunch of weight, hold on to it for 5-10 years, then lose it. Believe me, as much as I can nitpick the little insecurities I have with myself, I know overall that I am lookin' hot. But I do not suggest it at all (unless you've already done step 1 on your own, then I absolutely recommend step 2 :D).
I'm not immune though – this one day, I was in a conversation with a girl that could pretty much be described as a cross between Paris Hilton and a Barbie. She mentioned that when she was younger she was going to (like, totally for sure) shoot herself if she got over 100 lbs, and she was totally feeling fat at 103! Sigh…felt bad about myself for maybe a few hours, and then realized I could probably bench press her, and then felt better!
One summer at the end of 4th grade, I turned around and caught my (also deaf) friends signing, "Heidi needs to shave her legs!". Yup, even deaf girls are cruel to their peers. Since then I have been a fanatic about shaving my legs. I also shave my arms, pits, bikini area and–just in case–the tops of my feet. Every other day, year-round.
ahhh…the Jewish nose. If I had a dollar for everytime I've heard, "That's funny, you don't look jewish…" I…well, wouldn't be blogging right now, I can tell you that.
your nose is classic and gorgeous. just say no to nose jobs!
I discovered a phantom bump on the bridge of my nose too awhile back! But I'm not insecure about it.
I do feel sad though that Melissa Joan Hart is on the cover of a magazine talking about her "horrifying" picture at 155 pounds. There are people who are 255 pounds in this country, if that picture was horrifying, what should they feel about their pictures?
Fifty-two and I still get the occasional – maybe once a year – comment about my small breasts.
Heck, I'm fit and trim and everything else is in proportion. Why do women (the only ones that have ever pointed out my lacking) feel the need to comment?
Funny how things like that can still hurt a little. Not much anymore, really. I like them and their perkiness. I'd look odd if they were much larger.
I'm not sure I've ever caught this disease. After a comment by my dear husband early in our marriage during one of those radical honesty moments of, "Really, you could be a model if not for your nose." I feel ya, babe. It's like God forgot to sculpt the big blob of play dough on my face. I just told him he had a hairy back and his septum was falling out of his hairy nose, and 12 years later he still loves me despite my rudeness! And if you've ever considered a several-thousand dollar home improvement, like landscaping or new countertops, why do we spend more on our homes looking nice than ourselves! Natural isn't always best. Disasters are natural too!
Hey, Charlotte? I have one of those cute little button noses. They aren't all they're cracked up to be. Can't get a finger in there to save my life! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Kidding.
Really.
I was!
I would never… even if I could get my finger in there. Which I can't. (And I have really small hands, too….)
Okay, I lied about my nose being cute.
You have a beautiful nose Charlottle, and I've never thought otherwise.
I totally agree with you on the TV thing. I don't really watch much,and I stopped buying my US Weekly. I have no idea what's going on the entertainment worlds, besides what I can pick up while standing in the check-out lane and eyeing all the magazine covers. It really does help with my own self image when I'm not comparing my body to Hollywood starlets.
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