It’s been years since I’ve taken a good, hard look at my face. “How is that possible?” you may ask, especially in this social-media-obsessed culture where we’re constantly snapping mobile photos of our riveting day-to-day lives.
I’m clearly in the minority here with online articles with titles like “Will Resting Bitch Face Cost You Your Job?” and “How to Always Look Surprised So No One Knows What You’re Thinking.”
First, who’s got time?
As a money-earning millennial woman, I’m far too busy pressing my nose against the glass ceiling. I can’t see my face in it because there are smudge prints from the thousands of other women doing the same.
Second, with all the news today, I’m afraid my expression may just make me feel worse.
From anti-vaccers causing a new measles outbreak, non-stop Donald Trump coverage, and news that global warming will cause humans to have to move in with hungry polar bears, I’m too busy trying to meditate (or is that medicate?) for my sanity I’ve installed a no-glare feature on my cell phone so I don’t accidentally catch my reflection while I’m scrolling through my Facebook and Twitter feeds.
Third, face-filters, which I really enjoyed, are so 2016, so I’ve had to accept that I don’t naturally have cat whiskers and dog ears or rainbows for eyebrows. It’s not as much fun looking at my real face. Plus, I’m busy snapping stories of every food item I consume because that’s still so 2019.
So, when I did catch a glimpse of my real-life face the other day, I gotta say, it was a little disturbing. I’ve got eye bags now that seem to be filled either with fat that used to be in my boobs or with existential angst.
At first, I was alarmed. After all, this is not the face I remember having. Then I settled in to the idea that maybe I should finally learn the art and science of make-up to cover up any imperfections. It’s either that or Google “eye bag-o-suction.”
I know that eyebrows are all the rage. Maybe if I draw some that are highly arched – or maybe even a Frida Kahlo-like unibrow – it would distract people from looking at my eye bags.
But when it comes down to it, I’m feeling a little pride in these well-earned eye bags. They’re like well-used luggage (only without the tags that read Paris! London! Des Moines!) that announced to the world, I’ve been around and seen some stuff.
And really, what better way to bring attention to my nose piercing, than to nestle it between full, bushy brows and a good ol’ pair of dark, ample eye bags? What better way to defy all notions of women having to have a face as smooth as the glass ceiling we press it to?
Not to mention, if the glass ceiling ever shatters, I’ll have these eye bags to protect the rest of my face.