Before I get to a beauty question today, I want to spend a few minutes on one of my favorite subjects: denial.
I know something about denial and I bet you do, too. I found a specialty in the feelings department, which I mined deeply and enthusiastically till I found myself up against a dark wall I could go neither over nor through. At which point I decided to learn other ways to cope with feelings, like…having them. How much richer that made my experiences: The mountainous emotional complexities I was afraid of confronting now cast light and shadow over terrain I’d previously found homely or frightening or drab. Here’s how I wrote about it for O, The Oprah Magazine some years ago:
One night alone in my apartment, I felt restless and sad. The water on the river outside my window was unusually dark, opal-black, smooth as glass. A barge sat parked just a little upriver; a string of twinkling white lights hung festively along its deck. It was too early to go to sleep—I wasn't tired anyway—but too late to go out. I didn't feel like reading. I thought about making a phone call; didn't really feel like that, either. I missed my husband. I missed my son. I even missed my mother. What to do with myself? I was staring out my window at that beautiful barge with nothing to do, no one to speak to. Just a person, staring out the window. Can you understand what I mean when I say that as I allowed the feeling of loneliness to arise in me I felt a heartbreaking compassion, recognizing that every person everywhere throughout history has been subject to the very same loneliness I was feeling in that moment? I started to weep, with sadness and awe and grief and joy. I felt connected to the world in a new, different way, admiring the capability of the heart to hold all those feelings at once. Such strong feelings! And of course because it was my heart, too, how full I felt, and complete.
This is just to say that the kind of denial I’m getting to as it relates to my face is not exactly the same.
One day a friend who’s my age said, “Sometimes I hate looking in the mirror because I see an old man.” I said, “That’s funny, because when I look at you, I don’t see an old man,” which I think lightened his load a bit. Then I said, “And when I look at myself, I don’t see an old woman, either. I just kind of see my face.” To which my friend replied, “That’s because you’re in denial.”
All I could think was, If denial is wrong, I don’t want to be right. Which I guess is, in itself, a kind of denial. But I’ve found it to be a handy tool to keep my spirits afloat when waves of anti-aging messages flood my perspective.
How do I maintain my denial? For one thing, with the best bathroom lighting you’ve ever seen. Two frosted tubes running along both sides of my medicine cabinet mirror cast an even, glowy light on my face. (You don’t need these exact bulbs, but you do need warm, incandescent, symmetrical lighting. Like halogen bulbs with a glass frost filter; MR16 are good ones.) When I’m at someone else’s place and there’s a bright light at the top of the bathroom mirror casting a downlight, I don’t even bother looking at myself: Whatever the image is, I don’t want to see it. A friend calls that kind of reflection “a false grotesque fantasy that fucks with our brains.” (I couldn’t have said it better.) It’s not what you actually look like, so why acknowledge it? After spending some time at a friend’s one summer I was convinced I needed a facelift ASAP. Then I got home, looked in my own mirror, and went, “What was I thinking?” I’ve also had more than a few consultations with dermatologists and plastic surgeons in their harshly lit offices, where you’re handed a mirror and asked what you see (or would like to not see), and have had the terrible, sinking feelings of diminution, privation, reduction—all the losses that come with recognizing the startling reminders of mortality in your face.
Who needs that?
What I mean is, who needs a daily diet of that? If you’ve been reading these posts, you know I’m all for accepting our aging appearance and for the peace that becomes available when we learn to see ourselves with loving awareness. But there is also Botox, and filler, and good lighting, and denial. Because…not dead yet. Gather ye confidence while (and where) ye may. If a touch of neuromodulator and denial helps here and there, so be it.
The good news is we have options as we straddle the two worlds of the spirit and the flesh. So: What will it take to make you happy with the lovely, tainted glory that is your face?
“Ask Val” answers your urgent questions, Vol. 7
Yes, you, juggling SPF 30 moisturizer, SPF 50 sunscreen, SPF 15 foundation, and...what is that, a calculator?
Q: I know this is a stupid question, but if I wear two or more different products with SPF, am I getting combined protection from all of them?
A: There are no stupid questions at Val’s beauty retreat. You’re getting only the highest protection you wear, which should be at least SPF 30 in rain or shine. Go here for more sunscreen advice and product recommendations.
For bright colored mirrors, I got the Riki skinny mirror and the suction cup so put that on my bathroom to look directly into good light. The magnifying mirror is great too.
You explained perfectly how strange aging is because our exterior doesn't match our image of ourselves. I said this to my father recently. He said he was at a school thing for my nephew (his grandson) and the teacher called on "the gray haired man in the front row." My dad said he just sat there until my step mother leaned over and said, she's talking about you. He just forgot he had turned gray! I want to get lightbulbs like yours so I can live in denial at home. Great idea to not even look in bad overhead lighting. I ruined my day recently by looking too long in a public bathroom.