losing face

i had several epiphanies heading to work on the train today. 1. what in the moment seems like a loss, can afterward serve as a gain, in ways that we don’t understand until then. 2. left-handed people are brilliant without even trying. 3. the proper perspective is a crucial ingredient when it comes to success.

i’ll expound on these respectively in the posts to follow. here’s the first.

after returning to my mom’s home in atlanta, georgia from my dear sister-friend’s wedding in greenville, south carolina i noticed my makeup bag was not in my bag. i tore through my luggage searching, first hope-filled then hopeless. it was nowhere to be found. i called my girl i drove to SC with to see if i’d left it in her car or mistakenly placed it in her luggage. no. it HAS to be in the hotel, i thought to myself. and it was. but by the time i got in touch with someone who got in touch with someone who found the cleaning lady who cleaned the hotel room we stayed in, i’d given maria (that was the cleaning lady’s name) the chance to get her story together.

“oh no miss. um. i seen it. i seen de bag miss but it was half empty so i thought garbage and i throw away.”

maria sounds a lot like the mexican housekeeper on family guy.

maria is also a liar.

for one, my bag was BRIMMING with product ($548.98 worth to be exact). secondly, even if it were half-empty (and it most certainly was not) the bag all the products were in was brand-spanking new. no way it could have been mistaken for trash. oh maria.

“no ma’am.” i said. “it was not half-empty. it was packed. packed with goodies. that i just bought maria.”

“oh. no. sorry. no i thought garbage. so… i throw.. away.”

“okay maria. you know what.. okay.”

maria of course, kept all of my products and beautiful makeup bag. my loss. her gain. i was pissed for quite some time. i bitched to anyone who would listen and even those who obviously were not. i felt offended. cheated. insulted. but more than anything i was a bit lost.

i had gotten my mornings down to a science. they were ritualistic if you will. the perfect mascara, the best eyeliner (it was oh-so smooth), the best bronzer for my complexion (the mac lady with the neon blue eyeshadow told me so) and so on and so forth for about another couple hundred bucks.

the morning after i spoke to maria i woke up and walked to the bathroom. i showered, dried off and stood staring in the mirror. what was i to do? i had nothing. nothing to put on my face. nothing to make me pretty. just my boring light lashes and brows. no shimmery glow to my cheeks. nothing.

i almost cried. and lately whenever i begin to cry i hear my dad’s voice. and this is what he said to me:

“look at my child. (he laughed a little) what are you going to do? all you have is the beautiful face Allah gave you. how will you ever survive.”

then he stared at me. and i stared back. and suddenly i was laughing hysterically in the mirror. he was laughing, too.

i wiped my eyes and shook my head and grinned. then i began to examine my face. little by little since that day i’ve remembered different things about my face that i love. and it seems that little by little my features begin to shine all over again.

don’t get me wrong. i’ve never worn loads of makeup. and i am still a huge fan of a lil mascara and a swipe of bronzer. but the point is, after the turmoil, after feeling like i’d lost an arm, i was brought back to me. i remembered what it was like before my life of morning rituals. when my smile was my makeup. when i thought it was enough. i was brought back to that and now, i may or may not add a little something extra. because i remember that it’s “extra”. an enhancement. not a necessity. and that makes all the difference.