Wisdom After 'The Wall' - Worthwhile Regrets

If you don't make it to the end of this article, the ultimate takeaway is this: Who we are is never defined by how others see us.

Women who are fortunate enough to understand this early in life, will never know what any wall, or rather - the loss of it, feels like. For women like me, unwanted changes in our appearance - whether age, weight, or circumstantial - can feel like a loss of power. If we dare to dig deeply into that loss, we may recognize that our beauty has always been a double agent, and a most insidious saboteur.    

When I was 19 years old, I was introduced to the concept of 'Ashe.' I was a college freshman (soon to drop out), and I confided my frustrations and doubts in one of the very few friends I had at the time. She was Nigerian, and suggested that I was the cause of my own losing streak thanks to the 'gift of ashe.' As she explained it, our words have real power. Mine were provocatively dark and I was literally fumbling into curses with them. She probably shared more on this, but at that time in my life I quickly lost interest in conversations that didn't center around the superficial validation I needed at all times.

Giving the younger me grace, my narcissism was a profound well of unhealed grief that used a pretty reflection to stop me from jumping in. Keeping things shallow, kept me alive. People who believe women should have a choice about becoming mothers would unanimously agree that I was not supposed to be born. That was the first thing I learned about myself, and by 11 years old I was a foster kid with PTSD. My outward appearance was the only part of me that was positively reinforced from birth, to every new school, and each new foster home placement. When I'd confide my story to someone I believed cared enough to hear it, their 'wow, I would have never known that by looking at you' was taken to mean that I looked better than what I really was - trash. All my value was dependent on people looking at me, and liking what they saw.

I'm aware that there are many paths that lead some women to this self-defeating appraisal system. I'm sharing a bit of mine, to help others find the common thread. I cannot speak for all women, but I have observed that girls who heavily weighed their worth in terms of appearance always had some sort of core wounding; abandoned, betrayed, or abused by people naturally designed to love them most. I believe that a solid foundation of unconditional love frees developing minds to explore themselves; find their passions, cultivate their talents, and connect with people who share their interests. A whole person is capable of building a real life.

Some of us build from unstable and broken foundations, or none at all. For girls who grow into womanhood under conditions like this, beauty easily becomes a wall. Like children that shove all their toys and clothes in the closet when 'cleaning' their room, lost girls hide everything about themselves behind a face that stops people from asking questions. When that wall comes down, what lies beyond it isn’t ugliness; it’s the grief of someone who settled for approval in place of healing and purpose. What did you miss out on? What do you have left to offer? Who are you now? In my own emotional search for answers, I found keyboard demons who answered with the intent of driving women like me to suicide. They were wrong about everything except how I felt; I did feel terrible. 

I have never regretted (or even thought about) refusing to sleep with men I was not attracted to. Nor did I regret rejecting relationships that I knew I was not ready for. I definitely did not regret my children who are the only part of my life that had been purposeful when I was otherwise lost. 

I regretted not knowing that self-worth is always self-ascribed. I regretted not understanding that how people treated me was exponentially more important than how they looked to me. I wished I had finished my education, kept reading, writing poetry, performing in theaters, and listening to people who had stories to tell. 

I realized that I had missed out on the sort of human connections that make life richer. Who had I ever really helped? I had given my whole life to the beauty that was only loyal to my youth. Once again I had placed my trust in something that abandoned me.

The pathetic irony of my reality was not remiss of humor and a redeeming truth. The things most women regret missing out on; real friendships, creative expression, meaningful work, inner peace - never required a beautiful face. They have no age requirement or threshold. It’s not the fading looks that turn pretty girls to wallflowers as matured women. It’s the failure to nurture depth, intention, and purpose. Time has never been our adversary, misguided priorities have. 

We are the ones for which swimsuits invoke more anxiety about our bodies than reverence for the ocean. We are the ones who look to other women for comparisons, rather than connection. We are the ones who believe we cannot dance unless a man invites us to. The good news is, we know better now. Our age and looks don't stop us from doing anything that matters. To be clear, this is not a call for women to start neglecting their bodies. Do whatever is necessary to be the best version of yourself available to you at this moment - obviously that includes taking care of your precious flesh suit. 

Just remember that you're not a fixture on some imagined wall of life. You are here to experience and echo the wonder of an infinite universe. Ask yourself what you truly wish you would have done when you were younger. If you've grown wiser with time, chances are nothing is stopping you from doing it now. Search for new planets, make new friends, master a new recipe - it's all life. Build one that doesn't give wrinkles and rejection a throne at your table. Who you are is not a matter of how others see you, but of how you live, who you love, and what you create.