mommyverbs

Engaging Each Day with Action Words

See. — Even Kate Spade rims can’t help me.

on November 4, 2012

Lately, I have begun to realize that I can’t feel like a real person until I put my contacts in. I can’t function. I can’t solve problems. I can’t intervene or interfere with kiddo issues.  I can’t think.  I can’t get the day started. I can’t … see.

Please let my optometrist/magician, Dr. Becky, know that it has nothing to do with my vision or prescription.  I’m just grumpier with my glasses on in the morning.  I have no patience with my glasses on.  I don’t like the way they sit on my nose, they annoy me.  And it’s not that they don’t feel well; they are cool, Kate Spade rims (a little splurge 4 years ago), but… I’m squinching my face while writing this.  It’s almost like putting in my contacts is equal to a cup of coffee.  Contacts=Start the day. Glasses=leave me alone a little while longer.

Maybe this is it: I am not ready to see you…or be seen by you…yet.

I started wearing glasses in the 4th grade.  At the time, I didn’t really think I needed glasses.  Truth is, my best friend K.L. just got glasses.  There was a part of me that wanted them, too.  I compared myself as all 10 year olds do and I wanted to be like her.  Having glasses made you a little different. With glasses, people looked at you differently.  With glasses, you  could see things differently.  With glasses, you had a slightly different look.  And the world looked different through those lenses.  So, I told my mom that I was having trouble seeing things at school and like a good Mom, that she was/is, off we went!  I think we were both shocked and horrified to find out just how bad my eyesight was/is!  Crazy. The Dr. couldn’t believe that I had been doing as well as I had and that there hadn’t been signs before then of having any sight issues.

Wow.  I really couldn’t see.  Myself. OR the actual world!  All of sudden, trees had individual leaves.  The world had details I had never noticed before.

Long story short, I have horrible eyesight.  I can’t see at all without assistance.  Legally blind is what they call it.   I have always considered myself lucky that my sight can be corrected as much as it can.  If I were back in The Little House on the Prairie days, I would have been the little girl sitting in the corner,  a little useless. I would have had to go to Mary’s school for the blind.

So, what does all of this have to do with the MommyVerb: See?  I’m getting to that.  Ready? Take a hard left turn with me.

I had a conversation with a colleague this week that involved her not liking a picture of herself that was being displayed.  She said she was self conscious of how she looked and kindly requested that someone take it down.  I wrote her a note and told her she was beautiful inside and out, but promised to make the change as she requested.  And this got me thinking about how we see ourselves and how others see us.  It’s never the same, is it?

Now. Keep up. Veer to the right slightly.

That reminded me of a few years ago, I walked into a friend’s house who had a picture of me and some others sitting in a frame in her living room.  I never liked how I looked in that picture, so every time I walked by it, I would turn it face down.  Childish, I recognize and I giggle a little about it now.  She finally called me out on what I was doing, saying she thought it was such a beautiful shot of me.  But the next time that I visited, the entire picture was gone.  I think my lack of appreciation stole some of the beauty that she once saw.  Its a shame that I did that.  I changed that way she saw that image and probably me to some extent.

When I think back on that picture…she was right. I did look beautiful in that picture.  I couldn’t see it then. But I can now.     Why is it so hard to really see ourselves? Why do we compare so much? What is pretty? Beautiful? What’s the measure? Who decides?

These questions are important to me, even now, as I am reaching a milestone birthday.  Shouldn’t I be past that by now?  Shouldn’t my colleague who requested her picture be changed, be over it by now? I still look in the mirror and criticize at times.  I still see pictures of others and think, “Oh, how pretty…I wish…” But these questions are even more important to me now, more because of my Y and what I want for her.  I want her to really see herself.  See herself clearly for all that she is and wants to be.  For her beauty and her graciousness.  For her skills and talents.  For her gorgeous eyes and long straight hair.  I want her to love what she sees.  I don’t want her to compare herself to others, but appreciate and … really …see.

Follow me back to center.  I have to show her how to do that. I have to help her really see herself.  And the only way to do that is to show her that I really see … me.  And that I love what I see in the mirror. And I love what I see her see in her mirror.

With glasses on, or contacts in, we have to see ourselves first and appreciate all that we are and can be.

Before we can be ready for the world to really … see…us.

So, with eyes wide open; Let’s All Go. Do that.

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8 responses to “See. — Even Kate Spade rims can’t help me.

  1. Jan says:

    WOW! What an insightful view of an issue we all have. It’s like when you are young and you think you aren’t pretty….then you look at that picture from 20 years out and you think… WOW I was actually kind of hot! Maybe that will be a thing of the past as time goes on…

  2. janicedoty says:

    I think we are our own worsts critics–I know I am guilty of it from time to time.

    And yes, glasses do make a difference (inside and out!)

    • MommyVerbs says:

      Thanks for the comment! I’ve got my glasses on now and I think I’m ready for sleepy time. Yawn. Time change effects. Take care of you and go look in the mirror and love what you see!! Engage the day!

  3. Love this, so true! AND I too hate everything about how my glasses feel, and I am only ME with my contacts on!

  4. […] 19. “To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.” e.e. cummings  See. […]

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