Why You Should Wear a Little Makeup…but not too much.

Makeup, Self Care, Bare Minerals

I went through a year or two in my adult life where I quit wearing make up.  It may have started out during one of those “you’re beautiful without makeup/love your face” movements…I don’t remember exactly, but it morphed into, “I don’t give a rip how my face looks and I’m just too lazy to spend any time on it.”  Don’t mistake me: if you’re not wearing makeup out of some feeling of self-empowerment or feminism, or as some social statement, I’m not telling you to do it anyway or implying that you’re lazy; I think you’ll get the underlying point and can apply it in some other way.

The problem with what happened to me was that I quit caring altogether.  I mean, it’s hard not to; when you gain a bunch of weight and spend 11 hours (including your commute) at a place and doing something that doesn’t exactly thrill you, it’s easy to start feeling like you don’t matter.  And sometimes, that manifests itself in a physical way.  For me, it was to quit everything that had to do with taking care of my skin and face.  I quit washing my face before bed, quit using moisturizer, and quit wearing makeup except on Sundays (because I still cared just enough to not want to look slovenly on local public-access television). I don’t think I even plucked my eyebrows for months (hellooooooo Frida Kahlo).

Here’s the thing, though:  it wasn’t about the makeup.  It was about feeling like I wasn’t worth enough to spend a little time taking care of myself.  Over the course of just a few years, I’d put on 80 pounds, and I found myself in a job/industry far from what I’d studied to do, and my life not looking at all like I’d hoped led me to decide that it wasn’t worth it to “waste” the time to do a few little things to make me feel a little prettier…a little better about myself.

So I started putting on a little makeup.  Not a ton.  Just the below few items (although I do add a little sparkly eyeshadow, mascara, and tinted lip balm on Sundays).

Bare Minerals Makeup

Just Bare Minerals Foundation (in Fairly Light because I’m basically Casper), Bare Minerals “Warmth” as blush and eyeshadow, and a little eyeliner.  It literally takes me three minutes.  I even take it with me and put it on as soon as I get to the office so I don’t waste any time at home that I would otherwise spend drinking coffee before I leave for work.

I’m not telling you to spend hours on yourself…that’s why I included the caveat, “but not too much.”  It can be easy to get too caught up in appearances, or to become so insecure that you feel that spending lots of time trying to perfectly craft your appearance/persona is necessary (this is true with more than just makeup, too…social media jealousy, anyone?).  It’s not.  What’s necessary is to find a sense of worth outside of what you look like or what you do.  For me, it was realizing that I have a husband who loves me, family who loves me, and I serve a God who doesn’t care what I look like, but also doesn’t want me to not take care of myself.  And that, in light of those things, I should take a little time and do a few things to remind myself that I’m worth it.

I encourage you to remember that, and to carve out a little time for yourself and to find a way to treat yourself well.

**this post contains affiliate links**


I Am A Runner

**cross-posted to my food/fitness blog, Eating Back to Good! )**

Hi.  My name is Melanie, and I am a runner.  I can’t run a mile yet.  Actually, I can’t even run ten minutes straight yet, but I am a runner nonetheless.  I am a runner because I run.  Not just because I want to run, but because I put feet to pavement (ok…to treadmill…seriously, it’s 100* outside with 110% humidity, and I’m not stupid).

I am a runner because I’ve almost grasped that moment where everything in my body is working in harmony and I’m humming along, feeling like I can conquer the whole world with the power in my legs and feet.  I am a runner.  I am a runner because, despite my frantically gasping for air (breathe through your freaking nose, you idiot!), being slightly off-balance, and mouthing the words to *NSYNC (thereby rendering myself a complete gym-dork to everyone around me), I keep on running.

I am a runner.  I am a runner because, despite the fact that I cannot seem to get my shoes and socks to fit right so that I don’t get blisters, I’m still going to run tomorrow (albeit probably with moleskin, bandaids, and duct tape).

I am a runner.  I am a runner because I know that, in some weeks, I’ll compete in my first 5K.  I won’t win.  I don’t expect to.  But I will finish.  And the next one will be easier.

My name is Melanie, and I am a runner.

Homemade Pizza, Snuggies, Bullies, and Laser Shelli

I know, you’re thinking….”can it get any more random than the title of this blog?” 

Tonight’s planned dinner was homemade pizza!  After the crappy crust that I made last week, I was determined that I was going to do the whole shebang…yeast, flour, endless kneading, hours of rising time, more kneading…and so on.

I used this recipe but did 3 cups white flour and 2 cups whole wheat flour rather than the 5 1/2 to 1/2 ratio (to add a little fiber).  It only calls for one “rising time” of about an hour, and we had to run out for a little while, so the wait didn’t seem so long.

On the first, we used:  spaghetti sauce, green/red peppers, onion, mozz, parm, garlic powder, parsley, red pepper flake, basil/oregano

On the second, we used:  no sauce, onions, artichoke hearts, thinly sliced tomatoes, feta cheese, parm, parsley and garlic powder.

This is the “white pizza.”  HOLY COW!!  I thought Joey was going to grab the pan and run!

On Snuggies:  I have mercilously made fun of them…until yesterday.  Joey and I are both in our Snuggies.  They are incredible and warm and wonderful and Shelli loves being between the Snuggie and the Vellux blanket.  Joey won’t let me take a picture of him because he’s a tiny bit ashamed;).  I’ll steal a pic, though.

On Bullies:  I had an interaction (a very veiled and not really direct one) with a former frenemy/bully the other day that left me feeling very happy about where I am in my life and that I don’t live my life feeling like I never get “what I’m owed,” and that everyone is out to “keep me down.”  What a toxic attitude; that kind of attitude pervades every walk of life, you know?  You can talk all day about how progressive and well-off and “satisfied” you are, but none of that comes across when it’s all tempered with a healthy dose of paranoia.  I’m glad, not only to no longer have to deal with that influence in my life, but also that I’ve come to a point now where I don’t really give a rip what other people think about me.  I wish I had had that strength three years ago.

And the Laser Shelli thing?  I pissed her off earlier today and she gave me the evil-laser-eye: