Looking after Yourself
I can see that I will be spending my life’s savings, that’s not a lot, I’ve never been a saver, on body maintenance.
My hair was falling out and not regrowing until I got onto Silica capsules. My teeth are dropping like ripe fruit from a tree. The wrinkles are building speed as they race around my face, leaving tracks. Muscle tissue is now just tissue. I have never been good on high heels. Luckily, I have saved my feet enough to be able to wear high heels again, but I’m expecting it will only be for another ten years and then it will be back to the flatties.
When it rains my hair looks like steelo wool due to the amount of product I now put in it. Am I trying to look like a glossy brochure? I look out the window and see rain and use a swear word. Is this healthy? I love the rain usually but my hair just hates it. What am I doing I ask myself?
Is this how one looks after themself? An attempt at looking good. The term ‘looking after yourself’ makes me laugh, a lot of things make me laugh. I think of all the years I worked on looking after myself emotionally. I attended self-development courses on ‘How to be happy’ and ‘What to do to relax’. Now I find the body went running past the mind to Disaster Hill. Plastic surgery was never something I even considered. Well now I do.! It just goes to show that until you have walked a mile in those metaphorical shoes, you really have no idea what it feels like.
It was only yesterday, I’m almost certain, that my mother was my age and I marvelled at how she still got from one place to the next. Now it’s me and I am not going anywhere near what my children might be thinking about my state of well-being.
So it’s back to facing facts … no let’s leave that for another day. There is someone in town teaching pole dancing? What an opportunity not to be missed. I decided to go and even dragged and I do mean dragged a few girlie friends along with me. What fun! We hired the teacher, Sheri, for a one-hour personal trial, just to see if we liked it. In one hour I learned that I could not get myself off the ground. Pole or no pole, my feet would not leave the floor. It was so much fun and I have decided not to give up and I am going back next year for a six-week course she is offering. Sheri said it was a confidence thing, but I didn’t trust myself enough to even lift my body off the ground. It felt a bit like my bike riding experience, where I always found myself on the ground. Sheri was right of course. Between my small recent weight gain because of those alluring Caramello bears and the tissue instead of muscle, my confidence was a bit shot. I will try to lose the waist covered by chocolates bears and rebuild the muscle before the first class starts in mid-January. Fun hey?
Will this be considered to be looking after myself? What is that about I ask?
Copyright © Mary Willetts 2011