Naked.

I don't not wear makeup. I just don't. I can't remember the last time I thought it was okay to leave the house looking the way God intended. Maybe the 7th grade?

New York is such a funny city. For every person you see so dressed up you wonder if they are notable, there is a person who looks like they meant to go to Idaho and got lost here. (Much love to the Idahoians [?] who might stumble onto this blog.)

Every day I see women who aren't wearing makeup and I am utterly amazed. I am amazed that they didn't just come from the gym or overslept... that they actually left the house fully intending on braving the world with a naked face. I am SO JEALOUS of all of my friends who can say "Let me just hop in the shower, I'll meet you in 20." I don't even understand how that is possible! I would say about 90% are those chapstick-and-a-swipe-of-mascara type of girls and I can't handle it. You beautiful women! To quote on of the most wonderful films of all time:

"I'll have what she's having."

I cannot be one of those women. I do jot have strong facial features. My nose slightly hooks, my chin is weak and my cheeks just slightly too full. My eyebrows are too fine and a shade too light, and my dark eyes sort of sink into my pale complexion. Oh, that and I've been fighting a losing battle with acne for nearly a decade now and the results are scars, an uneven skin tone and a whole lot of self-consciousness.

I don't not wear make-up.

In fact, I almost always wear too much.

But I am dating a man who can't understand why I wear it and sees no point. He constantly tells me that I look great without it (to which I mutter under my breath that his eyesight must be going and/or he has a strange taste in slightly pockmarked women). But he hops in the shower, throws on clean clothes and is ready. In the time that I brush my hair and contemplate what shoes I want to wear... and that's when we're going to Trader Joe's. 

See, the need to feel beautiful in not only my own but EVERYONE'S eyes has been a part of my life for as far back as I can recall. I was the girl who snuck make-up to summer camp. And I don't know why I feel this way, I was loved and encouraged as a child- no one berated me or made me feel ugly. But, it is how  I feel. 

On Tuesday, I had nothing to do. Literally nothing. It was a struggle to find a reason just to put on pants... I would have to get very creative to find a reason to wear make-up. So I didn't. But I also didn't go anywhere or see anyone, save the bums on the subway, so it wasn't a big deal. Wednesday rolled around and I had to work but as I was blow drying my hair I lookes at myself in the mirror- I looked awful. But then I smiled and realized I looked... okay. So I didn't wear any make-up and entered the world.

Let it be known that the only times I can remember doing this in the past were during breakups when I couldn't stop crying long enough for it to actually stay on. 

And I tried to avoid looking at myself in the mirror for most of the day and so for most of the day I felt pretty good about myself. And then on Thursday I again did enter the public eye and my face stayed clean.

But here is today, Friday, day 4. Aside from the most annoying blemish on my chin...  I look okay. I really do. Maybe its just that it has been a long time since I've spent this many days with a naked face and I'm finally getting used to it, I don't know. I'm writing this as I take the train to work and after work I have plans (!) With some friends (!!) to go to a comedy thing and a bar for a late birthday celebration (!!!) and... I want to look nice. My pink streak has been sharpied purple (and I love it), my hair is on its best behavior and I am wearing my NYC uniform of black with sequins. It feels so strange to let my face stay naked. I'll probably give in about 5 minutes after I post this, but I don't care. I actually woke up for one day in my life actually pleased with the way God made my face.

** I wrote all of this on my phone so I'm sure there are typos and such... deal with it.

Thankful.

There is a chance that this is an inappropriate thing for me to post... and I guess I am going to take that chance.

Everyone is doing this thing on Facebook where they put what they are thankful for each day. It's sweet. I am thankful for a lot too, mainly the outpouring of love I receive from so many people. Sometimes I am baffled as to why these people care about my life... and yet, they do!

But sometimes, people don't care about your life, sometimes people break your heart and every time you remember it, it breaks all over again.

I had a friend once that I met in high school. This friend would sometimes fall off the face of the earth - we'd make plans for that weekend and then I wouldn't hear from her for days. But, when she wasn't M.I.A. she was my soul person. It was like I almost didn't have to tell her how I felt, because she was feeling it too. I loved this girl. I really truly did. So when she did shitty things like not respond my phone calls, etc. for weeks at a time, I was really, really hurt.But then she would call me back and we'd have a grand 'ol time and I'd forget I was ever mad.

Well fast forward to when I was about 20ish, I can't even remember what happened now, but something pushed me over the edge. Without telling this friend, I had cut her off. And I didn't tell her because I was (am) a big baby and always afraid of the repercussions of confrontation. So, to put it plainly, I was a bitch.

But my boyfriend at the time had manifested a quite surprising friendship with this girl. I would call his phone and leave three voicemails, only to see him tagged in something online with her in it. To spare you the drama, I was beside myself. I told him it made me uncomfortable, I told him it upset me, I told him all sorts of stuff and he just kept about his way constantly communicating with her online, hanging out with her in person and Lord knows what else I am unaware of.

This is the short version, but then that boyfriend left me - as most are aware. And in one of the last conversations we ever had... he talked about her. About how I was so terrible to her, how I was mean, cruel, etc. etc. I took his words to heart and contacted her shortly after and apologized for being a jerk and we resumed our friendship, she even got me a job with her! Although my heart was mangled, I was so excited to have such an old, dear friend back in my life. I tearfully told her the pain in my heart, and she who went through a break-up a few months after me, empathized completely. We even made plans to hopefully live together that coming fall!

But one day I woke up to find her posting that she was in a band... with my ex boyfriend who I had been just crying about. It might've been on of the few times in life I was speechless. I finally did confront her, to quote the lovely Cady Heron,

"I had never felt this feeling before. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My stomach felt like it was going to fall out my butt. had this lump in my throat like after you dry-swallow a big pill I hated Regina. I hated her!"

I am not entirely sure what I said, probably something about disbelief, confusion, how it was painful, etc. I do however, remember her response. She cited her recent breakup and said that when my ex asked her to be in a band with him, she agreed because playing music made her happy... and she just wanted to be happy.

In the retrospect, I have a half hour long response for her, but in the moment, I was left speechless...again.

I quit the job pretty soon after and never spoke to her again. A few months later I found out (over the internet) that they were dating, and since I am the world's biggest internet creeper, I figured out it had began that past spring, just as she and I had begun working.

Boy did I hate her. I wanted to do so many evil things, I had so many terrible things to say... but it was pointless. My ex had made it extremely clear that if I was burning on the side of the road, he wouldn't piss on me and she probably felt the same way.  What would it change? Would she be my friend again? Would he love me again? The answers to both were a big HELL NO. So I just suffered in silence.

Until last Thanksgiving, I was at my parent's, bemoaning my Black Friday fate and decided to go through my yearbooks (a favorite activity when I am home) and I found what this friend had written in our senior year. I don't entirely remember what she wrote, but I remember ugly crying whilst reading it. I realized in that moment that as much as I hated her for breaking my heart a thousand times worse than my ex had - I didn't hate her at all. I missed her. I loved her. I often craved the special bond that we had had all those years ago. I wanted her companionship, her advice, her obnoxiousness that made me feel that my own wasn't so bad.

And so, after over a year's silence, I wrote to her.

"I've wanted to write you for a long time, but for so long I had so much to say that there was nothing I could say. I found my 12th grade yearbook tonight and read what you wrote and it was really emotional for me. I haven't thought about it in so long that I had forgotten how much you meant to me & and how much we loved each other.Its thanksgiving and I just want you to know that I truly am thankful for the friendship we had. There were a lot if times that you were the only person I felt I could turn to. I have no ulterior motive in writing this, for a long time it has been on my heart to tell you, as strange as it sounds, that I miss you, And I'm not angry anymore. It won't ever not hurt, or be weird, but I'm not mad. I loved you both for so long that I can find peace in knowing you are happy. You dont have to write me back, I just wanted you to know how I feel."

I told her she didn't have to write back but I so badly wanted her to. I wanted the reconciliation - even though there were burned bridges that could never have been repaired. I wanted to pass by her in the street and at least feel the confidence to make eye contact.

She never did write back - and maybe that hurt more than all of the past put together.

So, the moral of telling that long, slightly pathetic tale is this:

You do not know the impact that you have on others. You don't know the scars that your actions and words - and silence may cause. If you have wronged someone and you know in your heart that you have to extend the olive branch first - don't wait any longer. And if you have been wronged and someone comes to you with an apologetic heart, don't deny them. At least give them the respect they deserve.

I say all of this, because I have wronged many friends, some more than once and I am so incredibly grateful to all of them who have accepted my love and pleas of forgiveness. It is you, dear friends, who I am thankful for this year in particular. Most of you live in other states, a long car ride or even a plane ride away but you are on my mind and in my heart and I wish I could hug you all and tell you how invaluable you are to me. Instead I am writing this, and if you are one of these people, you will know it instantly.