All of Sudden Vanity has Reared its Ugly Head

Vanity for Cancer

It’s also hard to avoid vanity when you get up and get dressed each day.  My hair is always my first concern.  I still have hair left, although it is very, very thin.  When I gathered my hair in a rubberband in the past, it was nearly as thick as my wrist.  Now it’s not even as thick as half my pinky finger.  It won’t even hold a small rubberband.  Maybe it’s time for a wig.  But wigs are hot, and uncomfortable, and look like – wigs.  I never liked looking fake.  But vanity grows on me.  I want to at least look nice, less pathetic, and maybe a wig will help.  But that bring up another problem – wigs that look real enough cost way too much for my small budget.  I guess I’ll be looking at hats and scarves instead.  When I dress I also notice my neck.  When I was heavier, my skin was all smooth.  Now it bags around my face and body, all wrinkled up, making me look way older than my age.  I especially hate my neck.  I watch those Lifestyle Lift commercials and read them in the magazines.  I pull the skin around my neck and mouth area back a little, and watch it shave years off my tired aged looks.  And I wish I could get a lift just to avoid some of the pitiful looks I get.  My skin was always smooth and soft.  Now the skin all over my body is dried and flaking.  No matter how much lotion, collagen or creams I use, it still flakes daily and looks awful.  I never cared about scars.  I like to wear them like badges of courage, lines in history, a diary of my life.  Yet, the surgery I may undergo leaves a long scar down the side of my neck, and another one under my arm the length of my side.  I don’t mind having the scars, but I think they will add to the pathetic looks I receive.  I just don’t need that.  Lastly, I have to choose something to wear each day.  I get awful hot flashes and sweats that last a couple minutes at a time, like an intense fever, so I never dress very warm.  The selections in my closet are few.  My weight loss was so fast that my sizes changed dramatically month to month.  Everything I owned, years of nice clothes I saved for and collected, no longer fits.  I tried wearing things as long as I could, but it got to a point where things looked awful hanging on my smaller frame.  Twice I went out and bought some jeans, a dress, and several tops.  Twice, the items I chose became just as baggy and awful looking on my frame as I lost more and more weight.  I’m at the point once again where I need to buy a few things that fit.  But money is getting scarcer, so I really need to take care.  I’ve resolved to buy only a few panties that fit and a couple sun dresses.  I can wear the dresses with sweaters and they tend to fit longer than pants do.  I cannot justify throwing away and buying more clothes.  Well, I don’t throw them away, but since they are so cheap and I haven’t the energy for a yard sale, I give them to the thrift shops.

I have never thought of myself as vain.  I was always very confident about my looks, meaning I always defend people in their unique looks.  I did not think of that as vanity but maybe it was.  I felt that your looks are your individualism, and why would anyone ever want to change that.  People love all types of people for many different reasons, of which looks is only a small part.  Whenever someone insisted they were too plain or ugly to find love, I would tell them to look around the room at all the people they are standing with.  I’d ask them if they see anyone they find interesting just based on looks and to point those people out.  The friend would choose several people.  I would tell them I chose different people than they did and point mine out.  We’d laugh a little bit at each others choices.  Then I would say, just as we chose certain individuals, there were also individuals in the room who chose us.  There is no reason to be alone or without a mate of some type.  Most of the time it’s just a matter of putting yourself out there and meeting an abundance of people so you or the people who would pick you, have the opportunity to chose each other. 

My ideal man has a larger than average nose, a bit of barrel chest or beer belly, not real tall (maybe 5’7”-5’10”), and very average looks.  I’m not into muscle boys or hard bodies.  I’m not into what other people consider movie star looks or handsome hunks.  But I believe the husband I chose, who fits my ideal man aspects, is a gorgeous handsome hunk. Others might not agree with my choice.  Others might agree with the choice he made choosing me.  When he chose me, I was a boisterous 220 pound woman who loved life, laughed a lot, loved her children furiously, was outrageous at times, and liked to help others whenever I could.  I had a beautiful head of hair that I always wore long (to the center of my back).  It was thick, so thick that a rubberband could not be doubled around it, and soft and straight (unless I curled it which I did often).  Ah, I guess that is vanity!  But his heritage focuses more on thin people.  My heritage tends to focus on tall, blonde perfect individuals.  Screw heritage!  Screw family and friends who want you to date or marry based on looks.  I chose my man for his goodness.  He said he was looking for someone who would love him for himself.  What more could a person want.

But, I guess vanity catches up to all of us.  I wanted to grow old gracefully.  I was very comfortable in my large framed body.  I am not very comfortable in this 150 pound body.  I’m not comfortable with my hair loss.  I’m not comfortable with the excessive dry, flaky skin and baggy skin sections under my arms and on my legs.  Vanity has definitely set in.  I don’t need people to say, “You look great.”  But it would be nice if I was not greeted with, “Wow.  You’ve lost a lot of weight,” when it is said with sadness and disbelief rather than congratulations.  I don’t like being greeted with a “You don’t look so good.”  I don’t like being greeted with a surprised look and very sad hug or tearful eyes.  It’s hard to avoid vanity when people cry when they look at you, including your own family.