Face in the Mirror

Some time ago I got a haircut. My hairdresser styled it and I must say, it looked pretty good. So I did what modern girls do when they get a haircut and it looks pretty good – I took a picture and posted it on facebook. People liked it and that made me feel good. But the next day, something happened.

I tried to style it myself. And it didn’t look anything like it did after being in the skillful hands of a professional. I kept returning to my beaming facebook picture and then looking in the mirror and lamenting the difference. Time brought no improvement. I was overly aware of my hair. One morning, after attempting to make some magic happen, I looked in the mirror and sighed. I thought, I spend way too much time thinking about how I look to look this mediocre.

My hair crisis corresponded with another blow to my ego – the realization that at 30 I had reached and was slowly inching past my prime. As a lanky knees and elbows kid (and teenager) I had never despaired of my appearance. Thanks to predictions from my doting father I was fully confident that in time things would come together- my figure, my fashion sense, my ability to do something with my hair… and I’d be something quite remarkable. I felt I had the right raw material to someday transcend my awkwardness and like the fabled ugly duckling become a swan. But here I was in my 30s and facing the fact that if I wasn’t a swan by now then the possibility had fully passed me by. After 3 babies things were only headed downhill – literally and figuratively. My frustrating hair only seemed to underscore the point – Merrily, you are no swan.

This period of angsty self-absorption got me thinking about vanity. Vanity could be defined as an obsession with your appearance – whether you think that appearance is great or less than. It’s an over-focus, assigning too much importance to that outer self. And while I wished the mirror to show me something better, my self reflection showed me a more serious flaw. My vanity. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good – but it does become a problem when it’s consuming – when you give it more significance than it deserves. If I were to suddenly become more beautiful – what would that accomplish? Would I be a better mom? Wife? Nurse? Would that encourage my friends or improve the overall quality of my life? Of anyone’s life?

Does beauty ever make someone more virtuous? More loving or humble or wise? If I’m honest with myself I’m plenty prideful as is, better looks could only make that worse. They really have minimal significance for the kind of life I’d like to lead and the kind of person I hope to be remembered as.

I share this because in an appearance obsessed culture, it is too easy to sit at the table of that obsession and drink the koolaid until it kills us. We give it too much power. It’s good to be healthy. It’s good to ‘feel good’ about how you look. But assigning it more worth than it’s honestly due, more emotional energy than it deserves – is, well – vanity. It’s the ecclesiastical chasing of the wind. Ultimately meaningless. And it’s damaging – whether you love or hate the face in the mirror.