It’s been awhile since I’ve updated my sketchbook project 2015 posts. Here’s pages 8-9. If you want to see what I have so far blogged, go here. To get your own sketchbook project, check out: https://sketchbookproject.com/
I smeared make up and nail polish on the page from the makeup you see in the picture. It’s probably the last time I used most of them. Here’s what the poem says:
At what cost do we cover up our blemishes and flaws?
Do we lose our chance to truly reveal ourselves to those we
love, by hiding our unsightliness?
Can we honestly love someone who pretends to be perfect?
Why are we so afraid of being ugly when it’s so relatable,
when it’s how we connect to mythical and biblical heroes?
It’s not just the face but the hideous behavior that draws
To remind ourselves that we can rise and fall just like
Perfection is boring and overrated. The ideal is not real.
And I’d rather hold something that’s dirty and marred than
an object pristine and immaculate.
Perfection belongs on museum walls and in special effects.
Not in my clumsy, smeared hands, not by my erroneous touch.
So hold me bare. Let me feel your actual scarred skin.
The only color s I need to see are the ones reflected in your
I want you as you are.
I love you as you are.
You are beautiful without the make-up product.
You’re beautiful because of your choices’ product.
All our mistakes and missteps led us here
and the only perfect choice I ever made was adoring you.
Put away your shadows and concealers
and let your real skin breathe.
I promise you that you’ll glow the you’re always
meant to be: natural and divine
This felt timely to read again as I sometimes feel ugly with my adult acne face, with pockmarks and scars and such. But I’m starting to like myself more, taking only a few selfies to settle on a photo I like when usually takes me a dozen.
Here’s a selfie I took at Dunkin’ Donuts yesterday:
I love my smile here and my entire outfit was cute. I appreciate my chipmunk cheeks a lot more too. And this was with no make-up so yay!
I’ve become a lot more honest within my writing and when conversating. More vulnerable than ever before and I think that’s a good thing. It means I’m sincere and genuine and trying to build a strong connection.
I get scared that one day I’ll want to delete this blog, my facebook, and other social media. That I’ll regret sharing a post, which is something I’ve done before. So I’ve been trying ensure that I stand behind my writing. And I think they deserve merit, hopefully.
But I will stand behind this poem. I love it. And the next prose piece I’ll share as well.
It’s a polaroid of my bare bedroom wall, with a spotlight flash on the center. And I chose pretty paper background to make it look like ornate wallpaper.
Portrait of Myself
I want you to see yourself in the light I see you in. you’re kind, sincere, devoted, and wonderful. I don’t understand how you can believe you’re this horrible, useless monster. Your mind scares you more than you’ll ever truly frighten someone else.
You’re not a cruel person; you ached when you realized you killed
a houseplant, when you witnessed a fly die by the car window.
You’ve known loss and hurt and you remain beautiful, maybe even more so. You’d never damage someone though you thought about it in flashes and let them disintegrate. Don’t be afraid of the light. It’s warm, curing, and effervescent. Let it shine on you and reveal just how worthy you really are. Let it dispel the darkness that shadows your heart. All the notions that you’re overwhelmingly awful. Let the light seep in your veins and expel the bullshit out. You’re so much sweeter than these sour concepts you have of yourself. Did you know that the person who has harmed you the most is you? Please be good to yourself. There’s only one of you. And the world would be at a loss if you were gone. You mean more to your loved ones than you’ll ever realize. Don’t slip your love away. Believe me. I love you.
I’ve been meaning to write a love letter to myself but this is pretty good. I think I’ll still do it though. I wrote this to counteract the self-loathing I felt. And I think it worked. I definitely don’t feel it as bad as I used to. And I hope I never will again.
Also, my name, Eileen, means “light” by the way. And I also mean the spotlight as well, letting myself speak my truth and putting myself out there. I wrote this before I performed at open mics and onstage. Before I had that courage and fortitude to do so. Now I believe my past words more than ever. This was just sweet to read and I hope the next love letter I write to myself will be imbued with this much affection and care.
See you at 10,