I've also become more aware of how I tend to perceive others--and they may perceive me--based on my face. What did people think of me when I looked like this?
Taken in the car--Thursday, July 28
I wondered if they thought I was a victim of domestic violence. Very few people asked me "What happened?" but I got looks, you know? It was kind of weird. It made me want to stay home and hide. I pondered what all that said about my vanity and pride, and how much value I place on my appearance. I don't fuss much with hair or makeup, but still...I confess that I do generally like the way I look. The experience of having my face all messed up has been unsettling and thought-provoking. What if I didn't have the blessing of a body that heals? What if this were permanent? How would I face the world? I reflected on Stephanie Nielsen at the NieNie Dialogues and her courage in moving forward after most of her body was burned.
Thankfully, my body does know how to heal. What a smart body. I am so grateful for it! Yesterday I went to see the Nose Doctor, and she told me that my nose is healing properly, and I can go out and play. Yay! We are heading out to Sparks Lake!!
Taken today, August 3, at home. Can you tell how happy I am to be going to the lake?
My scabs are almost all gone, with healthy new pink skin beneath. The funky shiny place on my forehead is where the ER doctor super-glued my two largest lacerations. (They weren't that big - they probably would have required one stitch each if she had stitched them instead.) The super glue is supposed to come off all by itself in a few more days. I hope.
I hardly think about my face now. I forget that it still looks a little funky, except when I get a look from someone. I don't even care anymore that some skin is pink and some is tan--it's my face and I am so grateful for it!
Aging is funny, you know? Sometimes I look in the mirror and get all pouty about the little jowly things starting to develop on the lower corners of my face. I play with my skin and pull it up near the ears like I had a facelift. Makes me look younger, for a second or two. I can't go around all day holding my skin by my ears.
A couple of months ago I was washing my face one evening, and I suddenly slowed down, started smoothing the soap on my cheeks in slow caressing circles. I was being kind to my face. I thought, "This is the only face I'll ever have. Even if it's showing some age, I'd better love it." That was an "ahah!" moment for me then. I carry it with me. And I also carry the brief, instantaneous memory from last Thursday, of that moment when I was falling and I saw the rock just inches from my face, and knew that I was just about to slam into it.
Yes, this is the only face I'm ever going to have. I'd better love it, and I DO!