Wandering Through Nothingness

(Portions of this have appeared in a previous post.)

When I speak of the Naked Face Project with women, both friends and strangers, 99 percent of the conversations go like this.

Molly: Yep…I’m going 60 days without using any beauty products or performing any of my beauty habits. No shaving, No primping. No makeup. Basically, I’m down to a bar of soap, a brush, some shampoo and conditioner and a toothbrush and toothpaste. (I then tell a little bit of the background…the girl in Girls on the Run who inevitably asks the question, “If you say beauty is within and that I am beautiful just the way I am, why do you wear makeup? Why do you color your hair? Why do you shave?)

Other Person: I could never do that….(and then one of the following statements occurs):

That’s easy for you because you are young.

That’s easy for you because you are, well because of how you look.

My skin is awful.  Just awful.. Years of acne when I was a kid left it looking all rough and ugly. I have to smooth that out.

I don’t want to draw anymore attention to my legs than I have to.

I wouldn’t look good without it.

I wouldn’t look right without it.

I’d look old without it. (Please insert a very “downing” tone here.)

I would look awful without it.

I don’t like my natural hair color. It’s drab..

My face is too round.

My hair is too thin.

I have too many wrinkles  (Insert downing tone here.)

This list goes on and on and on and everyone of the comments is derogatory in some way shape or form toward the body or appearance..

In the first two weeks of participating in this project, I had the same conversation, but with myself. I would look in the mirror and see an old woman. An old haggard woman. An old 51 year old, unattractive, asexual, short, frail, flat-chested, bony, and too thin woman.

Interestingly, in the first two weeks I was embarrassed to admit that this negative body-shaming language still existed in my head. I thought as the Founder of a Girl’s Empowerment program I should (note the word should…a favorite word of shame) be past all that. But the further I go down this path, the more I realize I’m not alone. Many women laugh uncomfortably when I mention this project. Insert in any one of those response statements a kind of uncomfortable chuckle or even a “I could never do that nor would I ever want to” kind of hand gesturing wave that tucks it neatly back to bed…there is almost a hidden anger there.

I get it. I would never have seen the significance of this small action nor would I have WANTED to examine these things. They were just too scary.

Shame works like that. I’m beginning to realize that shame is the deep and dark unspoken in this conversation around the Naked Face Project.

I asked my Facebook friends to share with me how shame makes them feel and the responses I got were both profound AND richly felt by every single person who responded. Everyone knows shame. The problem with shame, however, is its cunning way of suggesting that you and you alone feel it. That is, of course, how it keeps us captive. Not only do we feel the shame, but the sense of being uniquely broken that comes with it, keeps us from being honest, vulnerable, open about it’s living here, in our hearts, minds, bodies and spirits.

John Tillet, my wise and responsive Facebook friend, wrote this: “When I dig down beneath the shame, I find that there is a core, closely-held and tenacious belief that I just flat out am unlovable/unacceptable. Upon further review, I find that this belief was generated by a young boy who was just trying to make sense of things that he didn’t have the ability to totally comprehend. So, my growth lies in growing out of this little boy’s belief.”

David Ingle writes: “Shame is about the self not being good enough whereas guilt is the feeling of having violated a principle or rule.”

My own sister Emily Wilmer, writes. “Guilt is rooted in sadness/remorse over the effect of our behavior. It is specific and concrete. Shame is rooted in anger directed on ourselves. It is also global as in everything about who we are…about us. Shame is rooted in a lie, Humility is rooted in the truth.”

Something happens to girls around the time of puberty, where a kind of shame seems to tuck itself neatly into the growing cells of our developing bodies.  I’m not sure why or precisely when it arrives, but it does for so many of us.  Could it be rooted in some kind of weird survival/genetic code from back in the earliest days of survival on the planet?  Is it somehow a protective mechanism?  I don’t think so, but I do know that very few women are not touched by a strange sense of shame or some kind of unsettledness within their skin, about the time their bodies transition from girlhood to womanhood.

I was a late bloomer…very late…and while the rest of the girls on the playground and in the classroom were reaping the benefits of a mature body by receiving the attention of the boys, I was feeling left out, unloved and somehow “not good enough.”

Hello shame.

What’s really interesting, as I even write those words on this page, I’m afraid to write that…I’m afraid because that’s how shame works. It wants us to believe it is right…and so it keeps itself secret inside of us. It’s the small dark box we tuck away under the bed and pretend isn’t there. We dust around it for years, tuck it further back under the bed. The box grows under there and expands out into many other realms of our lives. That sense of not being good enough or somehow being uniquely broken shows up in all sorts of other ways.  Overachieving, underachieving, eating issues, recurring relationship problems, depression, anxiety…an entire laundry list of emotional and mental disorders result when shame goes underground.

I’ve been reading a lot on shame. The process has been both deeply disturbing and wholly uplifting. Shame has been a force utilized for years that has kept women from their full potential. . I could write an entire dissertation about shame and the woman. Shamed for being too sexual, shamed for not being sexual enough. Shamed for being too thin. Shamed for being fat. Shamed for being too pretty. Shamed for being “ugly.” Shamed for being a mother. Shamed for being a working woman. Shamed for aging. Shamed for not being old enough. Shamed for being outspoken. Shame for being too quiet. This isn’t just an American issue. It is a global one.

It’s also not just about women.  Actually shame has been (and continues to be) a force used to keep many non-dominant groups from realizing their full potential.  Interestingly, the more I read about this, the more I realize that shame within those in the dominant group is often what drives them in using it to keep the non-dominant group…just that, non-dominant.  It could be race, economics, geography, religion…but hidden there underneath ALL of it, whether in the dominant or non-dominant group is the fear that we are truly broken…truly unloveable…truly unworthy.

While I don’t know precisely at what point I let shame live here, neatly tucked under the bed of this life of mine, I know that I did. I also, thanks to this project, realize that I am not alone. Not alone at all. And am finding a great deal of comfort in knowing that this universal, kind of woman-body-beauty-appearance shame can, if brought out into the light be a very beautiful and powerful resource to bring women together. Instead of continuing to tuck it away by projecting my fears onto the apperance or degradation of other women, I can bring it out and see all of us as beautiful and whole.

We can open up that big and beautiful box of shame and examine all the stories we make up about beauty, appearance, aging, our bodies, the way we live our lives so that we can once and for all embrace who we are, peel back the layers and get down to the wonder and beauty of just being ourselves…our most wonderful, glorious, full, rich, whole selves.

I could find an infinite number of historical and current references on how shame was and is used (whether intentionally or not) by the dominant group to keep those in the non-dominant group…just that,,,non-dominant. (Just observe conversations flying on Facebook pages and blogs about the current conversation on women within politics, public health and the media). But as one of the women on my Facebook page simply wrote, “Shame doesn’t live here anymore.” I realize that for whatever reasons shame has been used in the past, the present or somehow woven even into my own DNA, the moment I admit it iis here, it simply loses all its power and I am set free…I am free and no longer bound to or living into anything less than my biggest, most beautiful, most empowered spirit.

“Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.” Jim Morrison.

(Brene Brown has done some absolutely AMAZING work around shame, fear and vulnerability. If you haven’t met her on the internet, or through her books, please consider visiting her in either one of those places. She has also given a fabulous TED talk which I will embed here…she gives us permission to see vulnerability around our “shame” as a strength. Amazing!

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

How does this blog post “hit’ you? If you want to share, but don’t want to share publicly, please feel free to email me at mollybarker1960@gmail.com.

Alright sisters and brothers …so we are coming up on our last week “NAKED-FACED.”  The journey has been enlightening as well as conversational.  Thousands and thousands have talked about it in their local towns and communities…across the globe.  Radio stations have done entire morning shows around the concept, morning talk shows, conversations in the gym, around the dining room table, girl’s night out, in the carpool on the way to work…this has been quite a journey!

Through the process, Caitilin and I have developed a truly open and honest friendship. We have talked about so much…frustration, fear, hope, joy and love.  We both feel like there has got to be some way to use all that conversation…not just between us, but the ones that have occured between all of us…in a positive way…an empowering way…a compassionate way…a connected way.

So here goes:

I’d like to invite YOU to take part in the Naked Face Project Celebration for just ONE DAY.

Our last day of the project is March 31^st, 2012…this Saturday…and we would love for you to give it a shot.  We know you can do it…one day to experience yourself in all your full and fabulous “HERE I AM WORLD” glory!  One day to truly focus on the awesomeness, amazingness and fabulosity (another made up word…I love these) of being you, us, women, girls, men, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, TOGETHER.

So remember…none of the Naked Face Project has been (nor is this celebration) about condemning or demonizing any beauty products (or of course the people who enjoy using them.)  It’s about taking one day out of our own lives…just one…to symbolically broaden our culture’s and society’s view of girls and women to include a bigger and more enriching picture of WHO we are and the gifts, talents, passion, strength and courage we bring to the world.

Consider this, therefore, an invitation.  No pressure whatsoever.  We’ve just had such fun with it, learned so much and have been so deeply impacted by all the amazing women who have shared their stories with us…we wanted to invite YOU to participate even if in a very small (and positive) way.

So…here we go.  Share in whatever capacity you wish, but join us and let’s use all that beautiful strength of ours to support our little “sisters,” each other and the world in which we live!

Feel free to cut and paste any portion of or all of this, into any kind of blog, document, facebook post, anywhere to encourage others to get on board.  And please, let me know how it goes.  Share, share, share!

To show my support of all the spirited, courageous and brilliant 8 year old girls of the world (including the spirited, courageous and brilliant one who lives in me), I am going to participate in the “Naked Face Project Celebration” for one entire day– March 31^st.  I do this as a symbolic gesture…to bring attention to a broader, bigger, fuller, more empowered view of girls/women than is frequently portrayed in the media, our culture and society .  I want the world to see just how beautiful, strong, confident and connected girls and women can be and really ARE…everyone of us, no matter our age, our ethnicity, where we live in the world or our upbringing.  We are all beautiful, strong and remarkable in our own unique way!

I am choosing to participate in the Naked Face Project Celebration as a way to honor the strength, confidence, authenticity, wonder and beauty of all the amazing 8 year old girls in the world (and the one who still lives in me) by doing one or more of the following on March 31^st!

• Post a profile pic of myself on Facebook, Twitter or some other social media website, Naked Faced.
• Write about it on my blog.
• Invite all my friends and colleagues to participate.
• Write a letter (or post on their website) to a magazine or television network and let them know you’d like to see more positive messages about girls and women in their publications and on their airwaves.
• Take an 8 year old out to dinner and tell her how beautiful and amazing she is.
• Take an 80 year old out to dinner and tell her how beautiful and amazing she is.
• Send a thank you card to my mother for all she means to me.
• Send a thank you card to my daughter for all she means to me.
• Watch shows that portray women and girls in a positive light.  (This means turning off most reality television.)
• Put away all pop-culture magazines that make fun of or judge women (including celebrities, they are after all girls and women too!) based on their appearance, and find something else to read that shows how strong women and girls really are.
• Write a letter to a woman in politics and thank her for her service.  (For full effect, write someone who runs for office on the party ticket…you are NOT a member of.)
• Volunteer somewhere.
• Go for a run.
• Post an Operation Beautiful Sticky note. (www.operationbeautiful.com)
• Take an hour to just be alone and be quiet.
• Sweat.
• Practice yoga.
• Do some kind of sport I have never done, but always wanted to.
• Lift some weights.
• Wear a costume for no reason.
• Admit, at last, that I’ve been wanting to run for political office and do something about it.
• Cook a great meal and eat it with your family on the floor of your living room, picnic style.
• Have a sleepover.
• Research girls’ empowerment programs and reach out to set up time to volunteer.  (Girls on the Run, Girl Scouts, Girls, Inc, to name a few.)
• Write a letter to my younger self and post it on my refrigerator.
• Skip somewhere.
• Do something outside my comfort zone.
• Smile really big at everyone I pass today.
• Dance and sing really loudly in the car. (Windows down for full effect.)
• Make a card for someone and deliver it personally.

What have I missed?  What else should be on this list?  Please keep your remarks to a G rating…as there may be a lot of awesome, fabulous young girls who visit here as well!

Alright…so this may turn a little dog and pony show.  Caitlin and I swore we wouldn’t go into GREAT detail about the physical changes we were undergoing as a result of going totally natural for sixty days…but I have to admit…in this last week I’m beginning to actually enter a stage of sorrow at the project coming to a close.

It’s just been so physically LIBERATING (I’ve spent the majority of posts discussing the emotional and mental liberation that has come with this) to have an excuse to go without my daily beauty habits…physically liberating in a number of ways:

1.)  The amount of worry in making sure I’ve got “everything I need” when I travel has literally reduced the amount of getting-ready-to-travel-time by many minutes.  This also has applied to just getting ready in the mornings both at home and at the gym.  Throw my clothes (which have been generally the same as well, jeans or slacks, nice shirt, flats) and I’m off.

2.)  My skin has never looked healthier.  People have even remarked at how healthy my skin looks.  There is a natural color on my face that is, as far as I’m concerned, just as good as the cosmetically blushed one.

But humorously there are a few things I HAVE found that I am really, really ready to be done with…

1.)  I’m ready to remove the body hair!  (Okay dog and pony show always gets a rumbling anytime Caitlin and I talk body hair!)  The truth is…I actually prefer the way my legs look when they do not have hair.  Whether this has been socialized into my view of what is attractive or not…I don’t know.  I just know I prefer being “sans hair.”

What’s funny though as I write…is this kind of weird sorrow I have at removing it. (Oh geez…am I actually writing about this?)   It’s like a natural part of me is gone.  I didn’t know what purpose body hair served until I had it.  It’s like a sensual stimulating system.  I could literally feel any wind or movement of air nearby UNDER my skin, thanks to the hair follicles being stimulated.  There was something about that…that had (and has) me feeling very connected to nature.  Nature girl…:)  (Speaking of “nature girl.”  Granola is here to stay…even my eating habits have undergone a change since I started all of this.  Nourishing my body has become critically important as opposed to “fueling it.”  Nourishing has a more nurturing quality.  More to come at another time.)

2.) And as far as underarm hair…it will be gone.  Prefer it absent as well.  I’m past the being self-conscious of it…got over that about three weeks ago.

3.)  I’ve highlighted my hair since I was sixteen or seventeen years old.  I was very much a natural blonde when I was young and by high school it was a light blonde/brown.  I started using lemon juice in the summers and by my sophomore year in college I was chemically treating it.  I did go a brief period without chemically treating my hair when I was pregnant with my kids…and back then, when the dinosaurs roamed as my daughter likes to mention, I didn’t have any gray.

Well…there is a lot of it now…and I’m totally psyched and excited to see what color my hair REALLY is.  The liklihood of returning to highlighting or chemically treating it is very slim.  Of course, I may change my mind in another few years, but right now, I’m loving the natural color and loving just showing up with what I got…a kind of very light brown with quite a bit of gray ”salted” throughout.

The greatest result of all of this…and it has been life changing for me…is this just inherent love and respect I have for my body, my skin, my hair…my eyes, my mouth, how I show up in the world, just as I am.  I am truly appreciative and grateful to my body and the work it does for me as I navigate this journey we call being human.  My body provides for me a bridge, if you will, between the journey inward and the physical world around me.   The sense I’m having is very hard to describe…but it feels as if I’m ALL in…all of me is here…present…available to the world…to serve, enjoy, have some fun and do whatever it is I’m supposed to do, while I’m human.

I have a sense (although everyday my view on things changes) that when this is over, every morning when I’m getting ready for work, play, workout, time with my kids, a date, a speaking appearance WHATEVER the day brings, I will, with intention, choose how ALL of me wants to show up.  Whether that includes make up or not, will depend on a whole host of variables, but I know that I will evaluate each situation and determine what will allow me to BEST BE PRESENT…all of me, real, authentic and available to bring the BIGGEST ME, the most AWESOMEST (I know that isn’t a real word, but I like it anyway) ME, the SOUL OF ME to the situation.

I won’t use any products to ”fix” my face, “delay aging,”  “make me look younger, or ”produce flawless skin” and/or enhance what I already have or am…because (and here is the liberating and coming home to myself part) none of it needs fixing…nothing is broken…nothing is ugly.  The illusion that my body isn’t good enough, young enough or “right” enough is just that…an illusion and something I no longer buy into nor will I give any energy to.  I simply won’t do it because it’s all a lie.  A big fat lie.  All of it.

This also means, I  won’t use my appearance to manipulate, steer or try to “win” someone over. I will own who I am, accept me as I am and in doing so create a space for others to own who they are, be as they are and know that they are safe in doing so.

Who I am doesn’t change, with my appearance.  How I choose to present myself is up to me.  I’m not tied, anymore, into illusions so often presented by the advertising tactics of the cosmetic and fashion industry or our culture in general,  that who I am and the WORTH of who I am IS in anyway tied to my appearance, my age and/or my body.  How I choose to appear…show up…present myself CAN be an expression of who I am, but my worth as a human being has absolutely nothing to do with it.

There is great irony in all of this.  Appearance in the human world cannot be avoided.  We see, we look, we show up physically.  But whether I choose to see my appearance as a measure of my worth OR as one of MANY fabulous avenues to joyfully express who I am…are two very different approaches.

This TED talk was recently shared with me by a friend and I don’t know how I missed it.  Aimee captures, very eloquently, how  empowering “owning” our bodies (and this includes of course, our skin, our faces, our hair etc.) can be.

http://www.ted.com/talks/aimee_mullins_prosthetic_aesthetics.html

Thoughts on this?  There are no wrong or right approaches…I’m just learning what is right for me.  Complex conversation.  Care to join in?

Several posts ago, I wrote about the awkwardness (which sometimes turns into shame) women begin to feel around that critical age of adolescence.  My daughter is going through that time now.  I try to keep our house as open as possible…and I know for a fact that she tells me everything.  Yes…everything…and while I may not like or am frightened by what she shares with me…the only way we can work through the fear, the frustrations, the anxiety, we BOTH feel, is to get it out, talk about it, get real.

When I started this project, there was a yucky feeling in my gut that accompanied the liberation I knew I would feel in getting it out.  I couldn’t have told you what it was…but yesterday after speaking to a group of 7th graders…I think I know what is is.

I do feel that it is important for me to clarify the entire context of this conversation.  If you’ve seen the movie ”the Help” then you know my upbringing.  I was born in the South in 1960.  I lived in an middle upper income neighborhood. I was an accomplished student, athlete and person.  I lettered in four sports, was the first female president of the student government at my high school and won the senior of the year award, went to college and majored with a degree in Chemistry.   Despite my attempts to prove  (I wonder who I was really trying to prove this to) I was a strong empowered young woman, I still felt valued primarily for my appearance.   I was a dubutante, in 1978, joined a sorority in 1979 and partied my way through college.  In 1982, I moved to Atlanta, without knowing a single soul and began my career as a teacher.  Fell madly in love with the handsome Biology teacher…followed him to Charleston while he went to med school, moved back to Charlotte when my heart was aching…and so the story goes.

I had virtually no female friends.

When I started Girls on the Run, I had no idea how amazing women-friends could be.  I had never really had any.

When I was in sixth grade, my best friend  developed breasts. I didn’t and never have, frankly. Not much of them, anyway. The attention I had previously received on the playground from the boys, began to wane (from my perspective)…at least in comparison to the attention my friend was getting. Popping bras was the activity of the hour and because I wasn’t wearing one…I was rarely chased, chosen, “liked.”

Now leap ahead seven years.  I worked at a summer camp on the coast of North Carolina.  That summer I started running, worked in the sun, sailed everyday.  Tanned, toned and with a new hue of golden hair, I returned to college.  Suddenly the attention I had longed for, came to me like I had never known.  I wasn’t invisible anymore…not at all.  The talk was everywhere that “Molly had finally grown into her body” and questions were asked, “Where did Molly go?  You are so pretty now.”

In 1971, sixth grade, I was invisible.  I wanted to like my friend, but the truth was (and thanks to the comments from my 7th grade friends yesterday, who just unabashedly threw this conversation into the ring) a tension between the two of us arose.  We drifted apart.  Playing “girl” came to her much faster than me and it’s like the two of us were living in two very different worlds…and because I suddenly felt invisible, like any little girl just trying to make sense of it all, I blamed my good friend…for caving…for giving into “being popular.”  I blamed her, rather than our culture, for my feeling less than, invisible, unloved.  As if she was intentionally pushing me away.  And when you are 11 and feeling “yucky” the easiest way to relieve yourself of all that unexplained angst…of not feeling loved, liked or accepted, you speak unkindly of what you think is to blame…and in this case it was my good friend.

The year after my summer camp experience, my social life in college went from absolute zero to richter scale 10…and if you know anything about the richter scale…that isn’t a ten fold increase, it’s exponential.  And while I was receiving the attention I had always wanted, I still felt invisible.  The strong, intelligent, empowered, girl who could run fast, out talk you on any political debate, speak of esoteric philosophies and converse on William Faulkner’s works of Southern Literature wasn’t of interest…or at least not in the world in which I currently lived…or perceived as the world I was in.

I had only a handful of girlfriends who really knew me and some of the others…well, I think they may have said really mean things, gossipped about my apparent “social escapades” and generally minimized who I was in their secret talk and social circles.  It hurt…a lot.

This kind of circular, never-ending, never being okay starts in 7th grade.  Maybe even earlier.  Yesterday I could literally feel the air in the room change, when we got the big Pink Elephant out into the middle of the room.  This unspoken desire to love our sisters and ”be as one” with our gender…something I’ve longed for, prayed for, dreamed of…simply can’t happen until we are willing to admit that somewhere underneath all of the combined strength of our wisdom, are these competing forces that pit us against each other.

The spotlight for women on the world’s stage…is so  small (women make up 51 percent of the population but only 11 percent of elected officials) we all clamor even just to get our toe in it…and when one of our sisters is fully exposed in the spotlight, we nudge her out by harshly judging her.

I supposed I should position this whole conversation, speaking solely for myself and reword this entire document with the word ”I” instead of “we”, but I think if we want to get anywhere…as a gender…as an empowered group…we’ve got to get honest about our fears of being invisible…unheard…un-valuable and take a really hard look at how we perpetuate this culture of separation.

I know I’m not alone. The temptation to hit the link to a story on Jessica Simpson’s latest :weight conversation” or Demi Moore’s current “mental status” is not only strong, but so easy to access.  Skipping over the ”Housewives of….” series where women are pitted, one against the other, is difficult.  Putting away the pop-culture magazines that question whether Sarah Palin has breast implants or Hilary Clinton looks old and haggard is tough…I mean this stuff is everywhere!

But talking to my 7th grade friends…I look into their eyes and they look into mine and I realize that the only difference between the playground they play on and the playground I play on…is our age.  We really all are the same…wanting to be heard, valuable and loved.

I realize that the only way to shift this culture rooted in appearance, competition, harsh judgment of one another, reality shows, advertising gone haywire and our anger…yes anger and fear…that I believe started as early as 7th grade… is to realize we are all valuable, worthy and important to society…every last one of us…me, you, Hilary Clinton, my good friend, my daughter, Sarah Palin, Demi Moore, Lindsay Lohan, Snookie, my mom, the girls I serve …we are all human, just trying to figure it out, brave in the attempt and worthy for simply being here.

It’s going to be hard, but for Chloe who is a great runner, Savannah who is an amazing artist and Sarah who loves to write…I’m going to do my best to put aside anything–magazines, television, music–that continues to pit women against each other and shift the spotlight onto things that elevate them…my little sisters, our sisters…each other and ourselves…

My sixth grade friend…was an amazing young girl.  She had a sense of humor that would light up any room, could write a creative story like nobody’s business and really helped me through some tough times…she was a good friend and important to me…

How does this post hit you…what feelings does it provoke?  Let me know.  If you don’t want to post it here…email me at mollybarker1960@gmail.com