I have never made an effort with my appearance.
As a teenager I bypassed make-up and parties in favour of books and exams. I was a girl on a mission and in my single minded brain everything else was a waste of time.
As the years passed, I became absorbed with University and later teaching. There was always work to be done. I threw myself into it with gusto. And enjoyed every minute.
I didn’t experiment with hair and make-up at a time when others were doing so, at a time when I could have learnt how to do it successfully with the support of friends on a similar journey.
I have always enjoyed work. It is predictable and I am good at it. I know that working hard brings results and I strive to be the best I can. As usual I hid behind it, it formed my excuse for not making an effort with things I found more challenging.
I make vague efforts with a pair of 20 year old straighteners and a lipstick that is almost as old on the rare occasions when I decide that I really do need to make an effort. But on the whole my face is bare, and my hair is washed and left to dry with no more than a brush run through it.
I justify to myself that I am busy, that work needs to be done, that there are things I need to do with the children.
But the reality is, there is always time if we make it. And if I’m honest I know that if I wanted to carve out a little more time for me, I could do it.
Except the truth is I really don’t have a clue. And maybe it is time I did.
Maybe as a 36 year old mum of two, one of whom a daughter who is growing up fast, it is time to stop hiding behind me the mum and me the teacher.
Maybe it is time to find out who I am as a woman. To experiment a little with make-up; even if it does make me look a little like a clown at first. To visit a hairdresser more often than once a year. And to have pride in who I am.
It’s time I found a style that is mine. It’s time for me to look in the mirror and figure out who I want to be. To put a little of the work ethic I put into the rest of my life, into making me the me I want to be.
Except of course, I know I’m lazy and it would be easy for me to chicken out of this one. Which is why I’m telling you.
After all, if it’s in writing I have to do it, right? I’m committed.
And if I bottle it, you have my full permission to kick me up the bum!
I’m done with hiding.
After all, I have a daughter. And as much as I want her to be intelligent and kind, and all of the wonderful things she already is.
I want her to know it’s ok to make time for herself too.
Because she deserves it.