I’ll be the first to admit that I’m horrible at spotting plastic surgery.
I mean, unless someone has a face stretched to the point they look like Jack Nicholson’s Joker or a chest so high they can rest their drink on it, I’m probably not a go-to person for an inside scoop. I didn’t even know calf implants existed till a few months ago. Whereas a LOT of botox is pretty easy to spot (hi, paralyzed face!), a little doesn’t usually register to me.
I recently met a woman, though, whose appearance set off all my Unnatural radars. She was lifted to the moon and pulled tighter than the plastic wrap over my take-home Thanksgiving leftovers.
She was physically unable to show any facial expression. I remember trying to make small talk thinking keep eye contact, Belinda, or she’ll know you’re staring.
She had to be led about the room much like you’d lead a child, and even her body movements were uncomfortable and statuesque (yeah, not in a good way.)
That was the first time I was faced with how reliant I am on facial cues and expressions to see if I’m communicating with people. I have NO IDEA if she and I made any real depth of contact because the only authentic movement I could see were those of her actual eyeballs. That’s also the first time I’ve ever felt that sad over unattainable ideals.
I suppose I’ve been thinking about my encounter because of the Renee Zellweger facial discussion that has been circulating.
The interesting part of this is I’m not at all opposed to plastic surgery. I haven’t had any work done, but I’d never put it in the ‘out of the question‘ category. I’ve thought about botox before. I’ve seriously considered fillers, and if I could realistically invent Do-It-Yourself liposuction, I’d do it this afternoon. Right now.
So, it’s interesting to me that I was so unsettled with being face to face with this woman who had so severely altered her appearance that I was uncomfortable looking at her.
Which is it, Belinda? Do you want natural or unnatural? A little bit of both? Isn’t that hypocritical?
Without having experienced making a living in a career where appearance is paramount, I have no idea what Ms. Zellweger must go through. Whatever choices she has and has not made have unquestionably altered her appearance. The same with the woman I met recently–I have no idea what her life looks like, but I will say that she didn’t look real anymore.
The question I’m wrestling with this week is what would have to happen in my head to get me to a point where I would feel it necessary to change everything about what I see in the mirror?
What would that feel like?
What if I became unrecognizable to my friends?
And where would that leave “me?” You know, me–Belinda–the person.
I’m open for discussion, and I’d love to know what you think. What’s too far for you? Thoughts?