You're so vain. You probably think this song is about you. Don't you? Don't you?
As much as I love Carly Simon and this american anthem, the lyrics have always irked me. Like Carly, c'mon?!? All of the verses ARE about this person. So they may be vain, but they aren't wrong.
Anyway- back to me. Haha! Honestly, I've never thought of myself as vain per se. Image conscious- probably. Material girl- obviously. I like pretty things and looking pretty. You know that skit from Portlandia? "Put a bird on it!" Well, my mom raised me on a steady diet of "Put a bow on it!" Make it look pretty and nice. A perfect shoe, a good hair day, my Bobbi Brown red lipstick. Even if I wasn't feeling great, at least I'd look pretty good. I don’t even like crying because it makes my eyes puffy.
And then the universe basically LOL'd at me. It was like Oh, you think those Tory Burch sunglasses are the most important thing evah? Well, how about more important than your health? Oh, you think you're finally Becky with the good hair? Well, you are going to lose all of it, so cash me outside. According to the doctor, I was definitely going to lose my hair, my skin would become sallow and dry out, my nails would be wrecked. I responded with "challenge accepted" and promptly worked out a date to get my eye brows microbladed (shout out to my amazing SIL and her mad beauty skills). I refused to look like an alien with no brows. I feverishly googled make-up tips for cancer and magnetic lashes. I bought a book called Pretty Sick. I took professional lady pics. I was gonna beat this with every tool available plus a great pair of earrings.
Spoiler alert: I wasn't listening and came close to missing a major part of my cancer journey.
All of my pretty baubles, white teeth and good hair did nothing for me that first week of chemo. I had wrapped up so much of my identity in a really fragile definition of the word feminine. This fragile femininity that was based solely on bows and lipstick and shoes was so easily stripped away. But when I actually stopped to think about what femininity looked like and felt like and thought about the women in my life and what I saw and admired in them, femininity was so much more. It was the gentle strength that got me out of bed on day 2, despite feeling the worst I've ever possibly felt. It was my desire to care for others and show love no matter how sick I am. It is dealing with this shit mountain with grace and humility, so that when others face it they know the mountain can be moved. By the time hair shaving day came around I felt like I had a totally different definition.
Shaving my head still hurt. Even after the realization. Even as I listened to Lizzo- Soulmate and rocked it out to the buzz of the clippers, trying to feel brave and strong. I cried. And maybe that's part of my femininity too. Every time I caught myself in the mirror for a week I saw Golum looking back at me. Even weeks later I'm still getting used to all of the changes, but I know I can still be feminine and pretty without hair, without brows, maybe even without my fabulous red lips (jury's still out on that one). The night before I shaved my head, I asked Kevin what my best trait was. I was thinking and hoping for a physical trait but he responded with "your empathy is your best trait". I liked that answer. Maybe just put a bow on it.
As much as I love Carly Simon and this american anthem, the lyrics have always irked me. Like Carly, c'mon?!? All of the verses ARE about this person. So they may be vain, but they aren't wrong.
Anyway- back to me. Haha! Honestly, I've never thought of myself as vain per se. Image conscious- probably. Material girl- obviously. I like pretty things and looking pretty. You know that skit from Portlandia? "Put a bird on it!" Well, my mom raised me on a steady diet of "Put a bow on it!" Make it look pretty and nice. A perfect shoe, a good hair day, my Bobbi Brown red lipstick. Even if I wasn't feeling great, at least I'd look pretty good. I don’t even like crying because it makes my eyes puffy.
And then the universe basically LOL'd at me. It was like Oh, you think those Tory Burch sunglasses are the most important thing evah? Well, how about more important than your health? Oh, you think you're finally Becky with the good hair? Well, you are going to lose all of it, so cash me outside. According to the doctor, I was definitely going to lose my hair, my skin would become sallow and dry out, my nails would be wrecked. I responded with "challenge accepted" and promptly worked out a date to get my eye brows microbladed (shout out to my amazing SIL and her mad beauty skills). I refused to look like an alien with no brows. I feverishly googled make-up tips for cancer and magnetic lashes. I bought a book called Pretty Sick. I took professional lady pics. I was gonna beat this with every tool available plus a great pair of earrings.
Spoiler alert: I wasn't listening and came close to missing a major part of my cancer journey.
All of my pretty baubles, white teeth and good hair did nothing for me that first week of chemo. I had wrapped up so much of my identity in a really fragile definition of the word feminine. This fragile femininity that was based solely on bows and lipstick and shoes was so easily stripped away. But when I actually stopped to think about what femininity looked like and felt like and thought about the women in my life and what I saw and admired in them, femininity was so much more. It was the gentle strength that got me out of bed on day 2, despite feeling the worst I've ever possibly felt. It was my desire to care for others and show love no matter how sick I am. It is dealing with this shit mountain with grace and humility, so that when others face it they know the mountain can be moved. By the time hair shaving day came around I felt like I had a totally different definition.
Shaving my head still hurt. Even after the realization. Even as I listened to Lizzo- Soulmate and rocked it out to the buzz of the clippers, trying to feel brave and strong. I cried. And maybe that's part of my femininity too. Every time I caught myself in the mirror for a week I saw Golum looking back at me. Even weeks later I'm still getting used to all of the changes, but I know I can still be feminine and pretty without hair, without brows, maybe even without my fabulous red lips (jury's still out on that one). The night before I shaved my head, I asked Kevin what my best trait was. I was thinking and hoping for a physical trait but he responded with "your empathy is your best trait". I liked that answer. Maybe just put a bow on it.
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