I had an addiction…a false lash addiction. And just like any addiction, this one was no different. After almost a year of getting my lashes done at three different “artists”, I came to a realization that this addiction was no good for me.
Just like thousands of women, I got on the false lash bandwagon a year ago and after getting a dose of what I looked liked with these long, luscious lashes, I got hooked. This beauty habit made me feel glamorous, and even gave me that ” I got out of bed looking this way” feeling. Everyone from co-workers to friends commented on how long and beautiful my lashes looked and this only made me want to keep up my expensive addiction.
However, unlike thousands of women, I had developed a major allergic reaction to the glue and for the sake of vanity I kept convincing myself that if only I tried a different glue, or tried mink fibers instead of synthetic ones, or perhaps a different lash artist that surely this would make things better. I kept making excuses instead of facing the reality that I was really sensitive to anything synthetic on my body.
Then one evening, after a glass of wine..maybe more than a glass of wine, I decided that it was enough. I scurried to my bathroom mirror, and one by one, I began removing my lashes. Yes it was kinda sad..to think that I was no longer going to wake up looking like a goddess but what made me even sadder was that I kept thinking of my past relationships ( my past marriage in particular) and how this was no different than my addiction to men who weren’t emotionally available, who weren’t respectful, and who left me feeling worse than before I began those relationships. And with each lash that fell to the sink, I had to accept that what I was doing to myself was no different than what I did to myself when I got into those relationships.
Profound right? I expected to feel less beautiful – after all I hadn’t seen my real lashes in a year. I couldn’t even remember what I looked liked without the false ones. What I ended up seeing were broken lashes that were sparse and thinking “I’m sure they looked better than this“…but I saw something else too…as I wiped my tears, I saw my beautiful eyes. I didn’t realize how much they sparkled..without the beauty of my fake lashes, I only had the beauty of my eyes to now look at. To my surprise, even my sober self the next day felt the same way…in fact, before I left my apartment today, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought “dang you look beautiful!”. And then I said it out loud ” Diana you look beautiful!”.
Rumi said “Take off your mask. Your face is Glorious!”. He was speaking about the metaphorical/emotional/mental masks we put on to the world outside. But I couldn’t help thinking how befitting this was to my situation. Beauty is a tough concept and I’d like to think that I’m at a higher level of consciousness today than I was before…at least compared to my twenties! (those glorious years of learning…eye roll). As with anything, what I’ve now learned is to ask myself this one question: “How does it really make me feel over time?”. Whether it’s the false lashes or relationships, when the initial high has worn out, anything that is truly nourishing will continue to feel good. So moving forward, I’ll stick to my vegan mascara, and experiment with natural essential oils (and pray) to gain back my old lashes.