My floor had a SHIFT meeting on a Wednesday night during my fall semester of college. SHIFT is similar to a Bible study, but that’s besides the point. The topic of discussion that night was about beauty. As everyone opened up and started talking about their struggles with it, I sat on the ground in the dim lighting without speaking a word.
“Guys like the natural look,” one girl said. “I don’t like girls who have all the eyeliner and mascara. I think it looks fake.”
I sat quietly and uncomfortably on the floor praying for it to end. Although they were talking openly about their opinions on the matter, I felt as though each of them were hesitantly staring at me. I probably took it the wrong way, but I felt very uneasy the rest of the night.
Before coming to college, I always wore makeup. I never left the house with out it on no matter what I was doing, who I was with or where I was. Therefore, coming to a college where girls didn't wear makeup as much brought me a challenge: I would be with a bunch of people who I didn’t know, and they’d more than likely see me without it on.
Well, one night my worst nightmare became a reality. I began winding down and settling in for a good night’s sleep by washing my face, brushing my teeth till they were pearly white and getting my jamies on. Without even thinking, I wiped off all my makeup.
No Maybelline mascara. No Tarte foundation. No Stila eyeliner. No Urban Decay eye shadow. Nothing. Sadly, my mask went down the drain.
It was the most vulnerable state one could ever see me in, but it was the best feeling in the whole world.
Then I overheard a group of girls on my floor talking in the hallway, so I went out and began to join their conversation without even thinking subconsciously about my bare face.
As soon as everyone saw me, they stopped talking and gasped. Immediately I knew what was happening, and I felt completely naked and vulnerable. It felt as though I disappointed all my friends because everyone was so used to seeing how I looked with a full face of makeup on. But what they said next completely shocked me.
“Bri, you’re so beautiful,” my friend said.
I was very taken aback because I was expecting quite the opposite. Those four simple words never crossed my mind. Not once.
Another time where I was shocked to hear someone say I was beautiful without my makeup was when I was with my now ex-boyfriend. We dated for a couple of months, and one night I felt comfortable enough to wipe off my makeup and show him my bare face during a FaceTime call. Even when he continuously said I was beautiful without the makeup, I still didn’t believe him. Maybe it was because that's what I thought he was supposed to say, but even when he seemed like he truly meant it I couldn't wrap my head around why he thought that.
I became very frustrated.
Why couldn't I believe them?
In efforts to understand why I felt this way, I looked to the root of where my fascination with makeup began: my childhood. I grew up watching a woman put on a full face of makeup in the bathroom mirror every day. Who was she? My mom. I idolized her. In my eyes, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and I wanted to be just like her. So I started putting on mascara in the seventh grade, and ever since then my collection of makeup has increased dramatically.
But it didn't sit well with me when I reflected on what the one girl said during SHIFT in comparison to the memory I have of my mom.
My mom wasn’t fake. My mom was beautiful and confident when she wore makeup. Then I realized, so was I. It wasn't necessarily because I relied on my makeup to feel beautiful. It was because I didn’t feel like myself. My makeup was apart of me, and it made me feel confident and good inside.
