i never wanted to be pretty

When I was a child, I’d look at myself in the bathroom mirror and wonder about my blank looking face. As I watched Anna Magnani and Sophia Loren on black and white TV, I’d think to myself, I want to be handsome like THAT. I never wanted to be pretty. I’d manipulate my face with my hands, trying to imagine what I’d look like as an older woman. I thought sexy was having laugh lines and sad eyes, round hips, and an attitude. Being blonde and blue-eyed I knew I’d never have the earthy look of the Italians I loved, and I spent hours wondering about that.

Forty-five years later, I see I finally have a “face.” Years of work, family and experiences have created a very public roadmap. Being single at 55 has added more laugh lines.

Some friends have chosen plastic surgery. Others are seriously considering. It puzzles me. Does lifting your eyelids, sucking fat, and inserting plastic implants make your life different? Personally, I’m not convinced. I’ve clearly had a life – and it shows. After all that, why would I erase it?

Attitude and intellect have their benefits and a confident woman is formidable. Yes, my eyelids now resemble Simone de Beauvoir…but I always thought she was one sexy woman. She probably wouldn’t play well to the plastic surgery crowd, but I’m not a member. Perception is everything. I’m not pretty, but I’m still working on handsome.

©2007