"Plastic Fantastic": Living in the OC

Part II of "Confessions of Conformist."

I have taken a keen interest in cosmetic medicine in the past year. It started after I left my full time position at the psych hospital for a higher paying, less stressful job at an outpatient surgery center. I had had a baby, so I didn't have the energy anymore for full time status at the psych hospital. That surgery center specialized in plastic surgery. Until that time in my life I was basically opposed to plastic surgery. I went into this work situation solely with my own interests at heart.

My mind was definitely opened in regards to plastic surgery. I had my fair share of patients who were in their teens coming in for breast implants. They tended to annoy me. I also had many patients who were there because they wanted to expand their life experience and felt that some physical flaw was holding them back.

I eventually got recruited to a surgery center that specializes in outpatient bariatric surgery. Incidentally, most bariatric patients end up requiring extensive plastic surgery.

My mind was now being forced open. I began to see many different kinds of people coming in for an array of reasons. I began to appreciate the value of plastic surgery. Once I saw how it could correct physical disabilities and enhance the quality of life for certain individuals, my interest grew.

As I have already detailed in my aforementioned blog, I suffered from disfiguring acne in my adolescence. As I have also discussed in my blog "What's your eating disorder?" I have struggled with my weight for most of my life, including now.

For some reason, despite my rebellious nature, I have taken up the art of aesthetic nursing. I spent two days in Beverly Hills a couple of weeks ago at a training in Botox and dermal fillers. I learned about the human face, and the proportions and measurements of beauty. I learned how easy it is to correct the most common flaws of the human face and complexion.

So why am i doing it? It really is quite a deep rooted thing. I spent the first twenty five years of my life opposing societal impositions of idealistic beauty. For some reason, my life experience has led me to a pasture of plenty when it comes to human self-dissatisfaction by bringing me to Orange County CA. My recent life experience has plopped me into the heart of human superficiality. My early life experience led me to defy the societal "norm" and to strive for internal self actualization.

How does someone like me make sense of these seemingly opposed influences? I struggle with this internal inconsistency on a daily basis. My heart and mind are at battle with this issue. My body takes the brunt of it all.

When I met my husband, I was at the peak of health. So was he. He was attracted to me, including my physical wellbeing. Once I started to exhibit symptoms of disease (meaning physical disharmony) he began to pull away. That was brought on by my pregnancy. Ever since (the fall of 2005) I have struggled to find my own balance between my physical and spiritual aspects. It is something I would love to abandon, yet my conscience won't allow.

I have been challenged to live up to my potential not only mentally and spirituality, but also physically. I am convinced that I will not and cannot grow any further until I clarify this problem. I have made leaps and bound in my mental, emotional and spiritual growth. My body is something I have preferred to ignore. That is hard to do when working in the field of aesthetics. If you don't "walk the talk" people won't come to you. My success in the business is directly related to how much I invest in myself, and my own physical being.

Right now I am stagnant on this issue. It is very difficult to muster the energy to worry about make-up, clothes and hair. I really just want to focus on getting healthy again. It is very tempting sometimes to just walk away from it altogether.

Then something comes to my mind. I remember my mother. She curled her hair and wore make-up, but mostly she dressed pretty shabbily. She only bought me clothes at the Goodwill. I was teased my entire childhood. I had acne and braces. I wasn't allowed to wear make-up. If I ever complained about my appearance, I was reprimanded and lectured about the evils of vanity. We were not poor. Her husband was a firefighter. However, we managed to get every kind of charity available in our community. Before my mother married her husband we did move a lot, in and out of different homes. When she decided to leave my father for the pool man and chase him all the way to Kansas, we ended up homeless, living in our lime green pinto, eating peanut butter and getting water from drinking fountains at gas stations.

My life was enriched once I stepped foot into my church and school in fifth grade. I actually picked it. A friend brought me there, and I begged my mother to let me go there. Again, as described in my blog "Confessions of a Conformist", it was in the Santa Cruz mountains, in the redwood forest. All the teachers lived there, the buildings were old. There was no plumbing or electricity. We were taught that we were separate from the "World" and protected. Vanity was not tolerated, and was actually sniffed out and snuffed out very quickly. I learned a lot during my time there.

When I was 14 I went to live with my father. I started going to public school. Pretty soon all the negativity I had built up over my lifetime came to a furious boil. I began to express myself, and stopped caring what others might think. I started wearing all black and painting spiderwebs on my face. Having breasts in high school became a problem. Boys would comment with things like, "The only good thing on you are your tits."

When I put all the pieces of my life together, focusing on my relationship with my body and my appearance over the course of my life, I realize how much time and energy I have spent on abusing myself. I was also in an abusive relationship from age 17 to 24. I have used substances in order to numb and separate myself from my body. Overall, I haven't been too good to myself.

Now I have a daughter. She is beautiful. I look at her and I don't want her to grow up feeling the things I felt about myself. How can I best insure that? What comes to my mind is a picture of myself that is beautiful, loving and accepting. I realize that if I want her to reach her full potential, I must reach mine. I want her to be able to accept herself as beautiful, and to never have to feel ashamed or guilty for that. I have to learn to wear my own beauty proudly in order to be that example for her.