On mothers and beauty
My family doesn’t really take Mothers Day that seriously because we’d like to think that every day is mothers day. (Like most mothers) My mother is an incredibly special woman who has been a hugely influential and positive person in my life. She’s really shaped me into the woman and adult I am today and I love her for it. I tell her I love her whenever I can. She knows it.
But something recently has been bothering me. I’ve written about how my mother’s modeling career helped form my obsession with people who are superiorly attractive. Modeling was an opportunity that came to her, a pale skinned ginger haired Swede living in the Middle East, and one she was very good at. Her beauty was unique for the region and as a result, she did moderately well hawking products with her good looks. This was in the late 60s and early 70s.
My mother is in her 60s now. On several occassions, I’ve witnessed her looking in the mirror and getting flustered. “I’m so ugly!” she’ll declare. It always feels so wrong. I never really know what to say.
My mother is the furthest thing from ugly. Anyone who has the pleasure of knowing her, knows that her beauty comes very deep within her. So many people (including many of my friends) feel at ease with her, trust her to listen and give fair, straight forward and logical advice when they’re going through shit. She cares. She has basically committed her life to caring for others, in her own wonderful way.
After she became pregnant, my mother committed her life to raising my sister and me. Fluent in three languages, a devoted reader, avid news junky and a creative and talented cook, my mom really could have done anything she wished to do with her life. But she’s not much of a dreamer. So, she decided to be the best mother, wife, and friend any person could want. And as a result, she excels. She is the type of person who brings her amazing cookies to her hairdresser, because she only see her twice a year. The person you have as your emergency number. The person who is loyal and trustworthy and so well versed in the world around her. She is really a gem.
She sent me pictures of her new haircut this week. I think she looks beautiful but her accompanying email didn’t sit right with me.
“I hate my face, but that’s what we have.”
If you’re a mother, please don’t say this in front of your children. Beacause, in all honesty, it’s not true.
Happy Mothers Day!
4 Responses to “On mothers and beauty”
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Beautiful piece, Elianna!
BTW, I agree 1000% (yes, a thousand per cent) with you!
What a babe your mother is. If I’ll have a chance I’ll snap her in no time
Elianna, your mother is beautiful and will always be so. You wrote beautifully about her.
I read this last evening… and today I found myself thinking of it… I guess this is the author’s greatest pleasure
… so I was sitting in the train… thinking about beauty… how you define beauty… and suddenly 4 young girls… 18 or so… got in… they were sitting next to me and I was really shocked when one of them looked at me and ask can you be the judge… can you tell her that she is the most beautiful girl… she pointed to her shy friend… I smiled… no one ever talked to me in a train… and so young… got my breath back and it was strange as I was just thinking of beauty… they were all beautiful… actually I find that each person has its own unique beauty… if just stop for a second to look… you have a smart beauty I said to one of them and you I said to the other had the most unique shy beauty… and she took her warm brown eyes down… you have a beauty of a princes i said to the one that asked me… and then I took a pause… it was quiet… the last girl was waiting… all 4 were looking at me… That will be our secret I told her… she approached me and I whispered something to her ear… her smile filled the train with light and vibes of good energy…
I left the train and went toward my car… I must tell her what happened today… but a piece of the puzzle was missing… am I beautiful?… I guess I had a half of a smile that could turn quickly to something else… I want people to think that I am… why?… but when all tell me that my son looks just like me I always tell them… what a poor child… but he looks great… I wish I could be like him… but why all say that we look the same… am I beautiful? I then remembered that I always say that I can see the beauty in ones eyes… Ahhah… but I never look into my own eyes… and if I do I just criticize and try to improve… I can’t see myself? Wow… that was new to me… where I am?
I guess as a little girl you like to enjoy the warm support of your parents… when you grow up… it comes the time that they need you… it doesn’t matter why… they never judged you… so try not judge them… sometime all that they need is just an ear to listen… the famous hug that you gave them when you were a child… come to think about it… the ear of one’s child is the only place when they can be real… and tell their deepest thoughts… if one could tell his child whatever he feels… he will be very lonely… even if it is something that you do not like to hear… maybe being there for them is good…
The true friendship of your gals makes you the most beautiful person in the world… this is what really matters… I was so red when she kissed me gently… magic moments in life. Thanks for reading this