The morning of the fateful day was a hectic one for me. In fact, any day that I need to leave the house by a set time in the morning is busy. Trying to feed two girls under 5 and myself, dressing us all to look presentable to the world, packing bags with nappies and spare clothes, locating shoes, debating whether it’s “dress day” or “pants day” with my eldest, deciding which toy to take with us and so on and so forth.
That morning though I needed to be out of the house by latest 10:30am and somehow do all of the above whilst cooking a meal for a friend who had recently had an operation.
I managed to get it all done on the condition that my personal grooming time was as minimal as possible.
BUT, the only clean and comfortable shirt I had needed to be ironed. An extra 5 minutes went to that.
Then I couldn’t find Z’s (my younger daughter) shoes.
5 more minutes was wasted.
Basically it was 10:35am and I needed to be on the road but instead I was frantically throwing on clothes and packaging food with double plastic bags to avoid spillage in the car and carrying everything plus children into the car.
So I threw on my clothes and ran out.
Once in the car and finally on the road, I realised that I hadn’t put on any makeup.
Look, I am not a big make-up girl. I buy make-up once something runs out. I don’t feel the need for eyeshadow in fifty different shades (ha ha), or three different types of mascara, or even the need for primer, bronzer and blush.
My daily makeup routine consists of:
- Wash my face.
- Moisturise face.
- Some light brown eye shadow and eye liner.
- Fill in eyebrows because I was genetically blessed with eyebrows that thin out in the middle.
- Face on. Ready to present myself to the world.
And this very small routine is not something I miss. I do it EVERY DAY. If I need to sit the kids in front of the television for 5 minutes, I’ll do it.
Yes. I am ashamed that I just admitted that.
On that particular day though, in the rush to just get out of the door and all the extra things I was trying to squeeze into my morning, it actually didn’t happen.
Later in the day when in the bathroom I caught a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes looked bare. My skin was dry and peeling. I looked tired.
But guess what? NO ONE CARED. And surprisingly, I didn’t even care.
Instead I was more focussed on the things I needed to get through during the day, the struggles of the people around me, and getting home to squeeze in some rest before it started all over again.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think this one accidental make-up free day is going to spark some revolution within myself (like Alicia Keys) to consciously protest make-up from now on. But I think what today did show me was that yes, me without make-up, bare face, IS presentable to the world.
It can cope with my make-up less face. No mass hysteria of people fleeing in horror at the sight of my face.
My realisation that I had no make-up on was only a slight bump in my day, a sort of after thought. Then I simply got on with it.
I think if this had happened a few years ago, I would have struggled more. I would have felt more paranoid and insecure.
But lately, call it growing up, call it growing wiser, call it seeing more of the world and the true struggle that it can mete upon people (much much more serious than make-up dramas), I have only just begun to realise truly, fully, that my self is not, and should not be the centre of my world. That sounds simple and straightforward enough, the old adage to “life selflessly” but I really don’t think it’s something that we fully internalise and comprehend what it means for how we should live.
And so, one day, or a few days, without “my face on” does not spell the end of the world.
Do you wear make-up daily? Only for occasions? How easy/difficult is it for you to leave the house without it?
Featured image is Alicia Keys, sans make-up.