Living As All of Me

[HannahOne]

Hi DesertFlower, thank you for reading and letting me know!
I was interested to read about your mother and her role in your fashion choices as a kid, trying to be "normal" with clothes. I have a fantasy that if I'd had a mother who did clothes with me and helped me learn how I personally want to embody the feminine it would have helped, but I also read about many people with narc moms who dressed their daughters in uncomfortable clothes or didn't let the daughter choose, criticized her, etc. It's complex being female, for me.

LOL, yes my letter is funny. At the time it was serious but reading it now, it's ridiculously funny. It's also funny how perspective can be colored by emotions and change so quickly. Part of me thought the doctors might really write such a letter. And, it's a relief to laugh with you about it.

Thank you for the kind wishes and words of support.    It means a lot to know I'm not alone when it's easy to feel unseen, unheard, unknown.

[NarcKiddo]

I also laughed at the letter. My husband and I have a standing joke about the fact that he must always throw out his underpants immediately if the elastic gets a bit stringy or a tiny hole appears in a seam. We say to each other that his underpants must always be pristine, because if he were to be taken ill and turn up at a hospital in substandard underpants, the medics would point to them and say 'Let him die!'.

It is scary to open any kind of communication from medics, I think, even if one is expecting it. Even if one has a fair idea of what it will say. You just never quite know...

I am sorry to read your statement that you were ugly as a baby. I was ugly too. My mother told me I was. But no baby is ugly. Not even baby birds. My lovebirds laid eggs and raised babies and I saw them from hatching onwards. Of course they were not classically beautiful but - ugly? Hideous (another term my mother used to describe me)? No. Just baby birds. Mind you, their mother didn't think much of them and had to be removed for their safety. Fortunately they had a good father and thrived. I'm sorry you did not have someone to feed you properly and nurture you and love you.

 

[HannahOne]

NarcKiddo, That's funny about the underwear!! Only the pristine may live!

When you say you were an ugly baby, I can't imagine such a thing. It's true, you were just a baby. Let alone hideous, as if you were a monster. I"m so sorry. It's helpful to realize I can't believe you were an ugly baby, it was in your mother's eye. So it must have been in my mother's eye. Back to "What is WRONG with her?" but there will never be a satisfying answer because I want it to have been otherwise. Much of me accepts how it was, so I have to work with the parts that are still angry babies and think it MUST have been otherwise or else she would let me die! Which of course, she did not, here I am. They are just still stuck back then, scared that it can't have been her that was the problem because they needed her. In fact, I lived, don't need her now, and I was less than pristine, and that was good enough.

[HannahOne]

Struggled through some tasks, was hard to focus. I tried to put some things in the calendar for fall so I don't become too isolated and stay in bed. The dance classes are mostly in the evenings and my "work" shift is 3-midnight with the child after school, I really can't leave for two hours for a dance class at that time and also, ridiculously, by 8 pm I am needing to be quiet and alone, I get easily overwhelmed after 8 pm. So that's frustrating. I found one in a morning I could do, and one drop in during an evening.

And I finally called since the studio wasn't responding, and I did get into the art class, a serious painting class. I am going to do a trial. It might be too hard core but I've been wanting to try this class.

I am not sure I should join the indoor pool for the fall because it's 8-9 am and I am concerned I won't go. Also now my shoulder has a problem so can I even swim, right now I cannot. Bit disappointing but we'll see what the PT says Tuesday, I may end up back in PT for it.

Whatever. It all feels scattered, and doesn't fit together into a routine that makes sense. I can't make sense of the me who wanted to do these things. But lying in bed is no good.

The new friend I am trying to make cancelled again, and my painting friend is away for a bit. Tomorrow I hope to look at the meetups coming up and sign up for a few. Feels kind of hopeless but we'll see.

I did a bunch of laundry, dishes, washed floors, trash out. Cooked a few meals. I did stuff. I did reasonably well staying up and being active.

Today I tried the makeup, and immediately on looking in the mirror with it on, I began to depersonalize. I don't know if it's an old trigger, or just the change in my appearance is scary. I'm sad. I looked very ugly. I did like one lipstick so I will try wearing it next week. I really want to wear makeup. Maybe when I'm eighty. I am even struggling with the nailpoish, I Feel like it makes my hands and feet look worse somehow. It's weird, like the feminine of these things makes me look less feminine, I feel so not me that I become robotic and... dissociated, depersonalized. I feel like I'm looking at a man's hand, not mine. Not that there's anything wrong with a man in makeup it's just I'm not a man. My bestie was a man who wore makeup, but he died of COVID. I wish he were here. I wish I had asked him to do my makeup! Back then I was still very averse to even trying it. We had so much fun around my small town, he brought the party wherever he went.

I am not sure what to make of this makeup experiment. It's still something I want, a puzzle that is important to understand. The man who owns my hair salon fled Tunisia because he is gay. He wears a beautiful face of makeup and he did my makeup once years ago for a job interview. He comes to mind, maybe I will see if he is taking appointments still. Maybe I just don't know how to apply it, but if I can paint a face you'd think I could put on makeup.

I know I once felt this way about clothes. Awkward, horrified, depersonalized, frozen. It was very very difficult to wear anything other than a black t shirt and khaki hiking pants. I would panic, or be unable to step outside the door, or be filled with self hatred and self doubt if I just tried a Mary Jane shoe instead of my sneakers. It took about six months of trying clothes on every day to start wearing them out, and then six more months of wearing them out before it began to feel "like me." But it was a very important process, very much about All of Me. It was silly on one hand, doesn't matter what people wear, but it was absolutely transformational inside and out. I don't know if makeup will be the same or not. I would have to put it on every day and right now that seems both impossible and also unnecessary. But I can't let go of it.

It's a four day weekend and I have no plans and I'm worried I'll end up staying in bed. I hope to continue setting up spaces and organizing for the fall, need to do the mudroom and some work in my closet. I would like to remove everything from under the bed and get rid of it or put it elsewhere for better feng shui. If I end up recovering from surgery I want a good energy flow in the room. Before surgery I hope to have the house more how I want it.

I want to stay connected to the things tethering me to life, things I know I wanted to do, things I thought might get me into the flow of life again: exercise, dance, clothes, makeup, meetups, making my house feel better to me. I feel far from all of it at the moment. I think that's grief. And isolation. Maybe a little derealization. But tomorrow is another day and I may wake in a different frame of mind. If I sleep, it's late and I don't feel tired. My sleep meds are not working at all now, and they're not supposed to be one you build tolerance to. Sigh.

I hope tomorrow I will go to pilates/yoga class at noon, I love the teacher, he's very funny and always plays "Bye Bye Bye" for the ab crunches. I could go to brunch after and get hash browns. I could also go to the gym. I hope tomorrow I will do these things and not stay in bed.

[NarcKiddo]

I'm glad you got into the art class and I hope you enjoy it.

I think it's worth you talking about the pool to the PT. Even if normal swimming is not ideal for the shoulder at first, it is quite possible that there are beneficial exercises you could do against the resistance of the water. My husband has to do his knee exercises in the pool (in his case because he is overweight and needs the water support, but the resistance he also needs) and I see a lot of other people doing all sorts of rehab things there.

It's good, I think, that you are planning to persist with trying the make up even though it feels weird and wrong right now. Given your enthusiasm for clothes now it is hard to imagine you once felt this way about them - and seems to point to the possibility that you will enjoy make up once you have got over whatever initial resistance you have. Consulting the hair salon guy sounds like a good idea - especially since he has done make up for you before so there is some familiarity for you.

I'm interested to read that you get overwhelmed easily after 8pm because I have been noticing that in myself. Our normal evening at home would be to eat at 8pm and then watch TV for a couple of hours. I have noticed myself getting very agitated if the routine alters a bit - say my husband wants to put some soup stock on to simmer while we watch TV and is therefore faffing around in the kitchen when I am trying to load the dishwasher and clear the decks ready to watch TV. And if I then find that the all singing all dancing new fangled smart TV is not talking to the internet and has to be rebooted, or requires us to re-log in to Netflix or whatever, it is all I can do not to have a major tantrum.

I'm glad you are planning for the fall and for making things comfortable and right for your recovery after surgery. That's important, but it's also important to pace yourself and it sounds like you are being mindful of your tolerance levels.

 

[HannahOne]

NarcKiddo, thank you for encouraging me to think more gray about the pool and the makeup. It's not all or nothing. Part of me is very impatient, tada! wants to be done, TADA! but were' not done while we're breathing. I think I Am going to order a lighter color of the foundation. In retrospect upon studying it, it was too orange. Like clothes, so much is about color. Also, I do prefer a very natural look, anything intense looks harsh to my eye and I freak out, maybe just because I"m not used to it? Part of me is dying to wear a bright red lip... but that may just not be me, the bright red may be too high contrast, like I can't wear black and white stripes, too much contrast. I can only wear red shoes, any other red clothing is too high contrast. I can wear red pants, if I wear a pink top, but it's still a lot on me. My face, skin, hair are all lower contrast. So it's partly I haven't learned how to balance the colors on my face. If I wore a red lip, I might need to put on black fake glasses. To start I want to try the lighter shade foundation as I got no sun this summer and I'm paler than I realized. I really want to work through this it's not even "I want to wear makeup" it's "I want this not to be a thing, I want to work through it." "I want to be ABLE to wear it if I want to." "I don't want to be afraid of this." Not sure why "this" is makeup but here we are, I have learned to trust my unconscious.

Yes, after 8 pm I am very irritable. I have nothing left. To me it feels like "no estrogen" left, no caring energy, no wanting to be helpful, no tolerance for anyone or anything I just need to be alone. So tired it's hard to even breathe, like my chest is heavy and I just need to be still. Unfortunately during the school year kid needs a lot of support 8-11 pm but I keep saying please, ask me before 8. Of course if an emotional storm hits them at bedtime when they stop, I help and that seems ok, I can do it. Just don't bring me calculus homework at 8 pm, I cannot! And don't ask me to make a quick pan fried chicken at 8:30 pm. I cannot. I guess I'm feeling "old." Im only 50, I somehow thought this wouldn't happen until 75. I don't have the energy to go to a dance class that starts at 7:30 pm. I need to be in my PJs at 8. LOL. This just started in the last six months. I dunno.

[HannahOne]

I am here to psych myself up to leave the house. for various reasons/excuses I'm tempted not to go. But I think once I'm there I'll be glad I did--to pilates class. I 've been going almost every other week for a few months, the teacher is a man and there are men in the class and I love to be there in a safe place with all different people, I am practicing that. And I love the music it's 90s music and amusing to workout to "Bye Bye Bye."

I had a dream to remember. I came downstairs and realized there was an entire additional room in my house I'd forgotten about. I was thrilled, I could make it an art studio or space for me. But it was full to the ceiling with boxes. Seemed impossible. My sibling was there. The light hadn't been turned on in a long time. I turned on the lights and saw it wasn't that many boxes actually. We went through them and it was entirely childhood toys. I thought these would be easy for me to let go of. Then saw a few I was attached to, little plastic Dinos my dad got me when I had chicken pox and was deathly ill. My mother came by and her play had been made into a movie and she was thrilled. (this is hilarious as my mother has never left the town she was born and doesn't generally leave the house!, didn't go past high school and has never worked). I woke up happy.

I thought it was so interesting that in my dream my mother was an artist getting recognition. I wish for her she had had a happier more fulfilled life. I would be happier if I knew she was happy, it was a source of terrible guilt that she was suffering and miserable, and I tried until five years ago to help, I therapized her for hours for years.... And I would have liked to have a mother who could mentor me in how to be happy, how to be successful. Someone I could look up to, not someone I felt sorry for and guilty for being alive about.

Maybe I can be that mother. Apparently I have to be, since no one else is going to. This is part of the clothes and makeup. Showing up. Being visible. I've made my body visible and haven't been attacked. I stood on a platform alone with several guys and they were very respectful and even helpful and kind. I want to make my face more visible. But when I do, I am terrified and horrified. So I will work on it one step at a time. I know there's a whole other room in my internal house, inside me, that I haven't turned on the lights in a while. That's full of childhood stuff I don't need anymore other than a few tokens of love. I know I can occupy that space and make it  a space for me to create. I want my face to light up, I want the lights behind my eyes to come on, I want to be unafraid to have my mouth be a spotlight of ... poetry? interesting words? expressive speech? As in my dream mother's play, soliloquy that express the human condition... lol... this is quite the ego fantasy! Refresh: what I want is to turn on the lights behind my eyes, to allow my face to glow with what's inside, and for my eyes and mouth to be visible so people can see my expression. See how I feel.

Yikes on bikes. Allow people to see how I feel. Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say, as Edgar said in the tragedy King Lear. What a terrifying thought. What a thrilling thought.

That doesn't depend on makeup or no makeup. But maybe makeup is the first step. First be visible. Then be audible. Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. Look how I look, not how I ought to look, choose how I want to look, how I want to be seen. Choose how I want to be heard. Choose what to say. "It's your choice, HannahOne," said my therapist in the dream. 

King Lear, Bon Jovi, potato potahto. "It's my life, my heart is like an open highway. I just wanna do it my way. I just wanna live while I"m alive."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vx2u5uUu3DE

[HannahOne]

I am proud. I want to pilates, got lunch, sold some clothes at consignment, and sat by the river. I also found a fabulous blue alligator leather jacket, collarless, at the consignment store.

It hit me in the face as I was driving that I have disowned so much of the "female" part of me. Of being female. I identified with my father entirely, even though he was insane, because it was better than identifying with my mother who was a victim. My father the (fake) intellectual, my mother "stupid." My father had a job, my mother did not. My father had money, brought food, my mother did not. My father seemed able to do things, my mother seemed unable, disabled. My father had no respect for women. Didn't want a female child. Women were treated as objects.

I dissociated myself from all that was "female" to try to be respectable, safe, and not lose my freedom, to have agency.

It worked. I'm not living my mother's life, not married to an abusive man, not penniless, I have agency, I have a work history, I have freedom, I have fulfilled many of my dreams, I'm living.

That's what's been creeping back, with the clothes, the makeup: being female. And what that meant about me. In my mind, meant I could never have or be safe, sane, happy, intelligent, free, self-directed, self-possessed.

It's why when I put on the makeup I appeared to myself to look "like a man," or my hands with nailpolish suddenly felt "like a man's hands", part of me is terrified of being female so made me look male to myself. Terrified of being visible. Let alone "pretty." My mind distorted my face in the makeup to something that felt safer, to a male face... even as that experience scared me and I felt sad and ugly. Sad and ugly is safer than beautiful and happy.

Even though it's triggering, scary, and feels somewhat "not me" I'm going to pursue the makeup and try again. And keep with the clothes. I want to put this all together. I want to face my fear and bring it into the present where it's ok to wear makeup, in fact, no one cares!!! LOL. Truly, no one cares, I'm fifty, well past prime   It can't hurt me now. I want to reclaim All of Me. I don't have to be male to be safe, smart, sane, or solid. I want my face to be visible and highlighted, my features defined, my words defined, my boundaries defined. I want to decide the right contrast, the right colors... I want it to be MY face. I want to take All of Me back.

There is a part of me that's male-identified, and that's ok. And, I want to be able to embrace the fact that I am female and what that means to me, personally. Gender identity is different for everyone; I want to know and embody what it is to me, I want the freedom to do that.

I am proud I went to exercise class and stayed out. I feel I had "a day," I did not stay in bed. It's 5 pm, now time for the night shift of kid time, animal feeding and care, dinner and dishes, fold laundry, reset house...

Tomorrow I hope to feng shui under my bed. A daunting prospect but I have to face what is under there, and hopefully banish it all! Lighten my load.