It took me more than three months to notice, but at Gold’s Gym they have both widening and narrowing mirrors (an illusion, deliberate or not, that makes me and everyone else there feel better or worse, depending on which goal you have and which mirror you face). They have in-between mirrors, too. I noticed the different mirrors, and then my suspicion was confirmed by a stranger who said, “I like working out in front of this mirror.” I guess he was one of the slimmer-downers, as opposed to the bulker-uppers—he was standing in front of the “skinny” mirror.

Perception of one’s own beauty is malleable.

I decided two months ago to stop wearing makeup, because it’s a hassle, and because I don’t want to go the rest of my life thinking that I need to put my face on every morning. I had done this in 8th grade, when my 7th grade attempts to wear makeup had rendered me more of an orange clown than a smoldering seductress. I did it for several months at that time, and what a vulnerable time to risk anything… but I don’t remember worrying about being ugly in those days.

So here I am again, prompted by practicality. I just started working out on a daily basis 4 months ago, and having makeup drip into your eyes is not fun. Neither is washing your makeup off in the middle of the day.

After a 10 year stint of almost daily makeup, I am going au naturelle these days, and starting to think that my face is not plain and pasty without makeup. I certainly don’t look glitzy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look beautiful.

Let’s face it; even with great skill and makeup, we aren’t beautiful all the time. Beauty is a right-time, right-place sort of thing. Ethereal and fleeting, we can chase it, but it catches us, not vice-versa.

I did feel plain and underdressed when I first boycotted makeup. Some days I still feel that way, but most of the time I feel good about the way I look and it’s one less thing to worry about. I still get compliments, and now I believe them more because the face they compliment is 100% mine.