“That night she sat for hours, too numb even to drink, teaching herself to breathe in a vacuum. For this, oh God, was the void. There was nobody who could help her. Nobody in the world. They were all on something, mad, possible enemies, dead.”
-Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49
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2004-03-16 10:37 a.m. I’m twenty-six years old, and I’ve noticed that I’m developing wrinkles. This is a scary moment. And what’s really upsetting about it is that I’m not developing those lines around the corners of the lips that make some women look like they’re always smiling. No, I’m developing frown lines. I really hate to be so vain, but the fact of the matter is, I’m female. I don’t always admit it freely, and I try to be stronger than your average girl, but I am still a girl. There’s no getting around it. And being a girl involves being extremely self-conscious about your appearance. Even the most beautiful women are self-conscious about their looks. Cindy Crawford has been quoted as saying that she hates her thighs. No one’s perfect, but every woman wants to be. God, I hate being a woman. There are so many things about it that just downright suck. I hate the monthly conflict that interferes with everything. I hate that I don’t gain as much respect around the office as the handful of men do, because, as progressive as we think we are, the truth is that people believe what a man is telling them before they’ll believe a woman. As a woman, I can say that. And I honestly think it’s true. But that’s not the point. The point is that I hate being female. I hate being vain. I hate being self-conscious about my appearance. But I can’t help it. I can’t help that I stress and stress about my complexion even though people tell me I have beautiful skin. I can’t help that I constantly think I need to lose weight even though I really don’t have to lose weight. I hate that I worry about how my clothes fit everyday because everyday my body is fluctuating because of stupid hormones that don’t know how to just stay constant. Fucking nature. I hate the nature of the universe. God. What the hell kind of greater power would create something so horrible as woman? And that’s not to say that I think man is much better. I hate humanity more than any one or the other sex. But I really just can’t stand women. I can’t stand the same things I do when I see other women doing them. I can’t stand that we exist at all. Why can’t we just look pretty and smile and never have to worry about that stupid monthly conflict that makes us want to throw things? Why do we have to be conscious of ourselves? Forget self-consciousness. It’s plain old consciousness that sucks. It sucks that we have to know what we hate about ourselves. It sucks that we have to know what we hate about others and then we have to know that it’s wrong to hate them. It sucks that we have to know when we are or are not capable of doing something. Everything sucks. Whether I’m on medication or not. These silly frown lines are really starting to bother me. They are telling me unequivocally that I have had a miserable life and I will look like it for the rest of my time on earth, so everyone else will know. And the worst thing to know about it is that I don’t want to be miserable. I wish I could be a genuinely happy person. I wish I could have smile lines instead of frown lines. I wish I could age gracefully, at peace with myself and my past. But I guess that just wouldn’t be me. |