I had therapy/counselling at the beginning of the year because my mood spiralled downwards when I was ill with dreadful flu. It really really helped and this woman was just amazing. She exuded calm, peace, tranquility and happiness. I am sure she was an angel incarnate! Her patience was divine – I can remember the first session when I was amazed she could actually understand me. I sobbed uncontrollably for the whole hour and got through a brand new box of tissues! I had “homework” each week which was often visualisation techniques. These usually involved Fluff – I had to visual her in front of me and say three positive things. That was tricky!
Anyway – I digress. One of the early homeworks was to look at myself in the mirror regularly and say “I see you, I accept you, I love you”. Now I have obviously the BEST bedroom mirror because this wasn’t too bad. Some mornings I could do this easily and look at myself and think “yes I love you – you ain’t half bad!” And there were even a couple of evenings when I had a bit of slap on when I said “Wow !!!!”
However my hairdressers? Now that mirror is a whole different story. I look in there as they de-tangle and think – you look old/grey (skin and hair), tired/ill/knackered and shit!! In fact last time I looked I was seriously pants!
Now eight years ago, when I was still most definitely on the young young side of fifty, I had “filler” in the deep crevice between my eyebrows. Miraculously that furrow, despite all the intense frowning over the last couple of years, has not returned. I also had treatment for the lines between my nose and mouth (nasolabial folds) and some Botox – and I swore then never again. I had it on my forehead and where I was injected above my brows it lifted them and changed the shape of my eyes. It was horrible. My face didn’t look like my own and I have never touched the stuff since. However, sitting in the hairdressers looking at my face, I thought I looked old and crabby and decided maybe some assistance was required after all. So I went back to have the old nasolabial folds re-plumped.
As I was sitting in the waiting room I knew this would be my next blog post! How I sat there without laughing out loud was a miracle. There must have been between 8 and 10 women all of a certain age sitting there. As you arrived you filled in a form and disclaimer. The glamorous receptionist noted all your details then another lady came in and saw each of us individually (and took photos) before these pencil slim, immaculately groomed women in vertiginous heels came in to waft you away for treatment…
Now all this sounds fairly serene I am sure you’ll agree? However, after the photograph stage, you were dolloped with anaesthetising cream. It was just hilarious! You could tell what each person was there for – some had this cream all over their lips, some – like me – in their nasolabial folds, some had hair bands on with the cream on their foreheads, and one woman had so much bloody cream on she could have been there for a full facelift!
But what tickled me was that we all sat there not speaking or looking at each other and flicking through glossy magazines. It was only me that appeared to glance up and peek at everyone and note how farcical and ridiculous we all looked. Some already had faces that looked like they didn’t move. I literally wanted to laugh out loud but the anaesthetising cream wouldn’t let me! Honestly – what are we like?!