somewhere between barbie & broomhilda
by kathleen healy schmieder

I’m moving to a different state of mind. Life delivers us to a variety of places and I’ve decided there are states of mind I would rather not visit and definitely don’t want to live in.

Careening toward 50 doesn’t make me cringe any more than reaching the benchmarks of 21 or 30 did, and when I hit “the big 4-0” I didn’t head for the yellow pages looking for plastic surgeons or the nearest cheesecake delivery service.

In a world obsessed with cosmetic impressions we are barraged with constant reminders of what the “ideal woman” is – according to Madison Avenue standards. It’s hard to measure up to air brushed magazine photos of botox injected babes who regularly practice pilates with the personal trainer they hired to stave off the onset of maturity. The beauty of middle age is bemoaned rather than celebrated by a culture promoting these impossible standards.

In a world preoccupied with youth, I have never fit in well; I was born old. The principal called my parents to meet with her when I was in first grade. “Kathleen will be in her forties before she gets along with her peers” she informed them. My outlook on life at six didn’t rely on fitting in with what everyone else thought or did. Now in my forties that aspect of my personality remains the same. I find myself with friends of every age and from a variety of backgrounds and interests.

The one thing we all have in common is our uniqueness. We come in every shape, size and color and each of us is beautiful in our own manner. The unique way we are put together is a blessing to some, for others it’s a curse, for most of us it’s a combination of the two, depending on our attitude on any given day.

There are days when the most challenging exercise I manage is cringing at the scale. Tomorrow I will walk the track, today the only tracks I’m thinking about are preceded by “Moose” and come frozen in a cardboard container. Today I smile at my reflection and laugh lines grace my face, tomorrow wrinkles appear in the same places around my mouth and eyes. The woman I see on the outside reflects the feelings inside me more than anything else. The scale, the mirror, or other people’s opinions of us don’t determine who we are; our internal acceptance of ourselves is the harshest critic we’ll ever face.

It’s been said that you can fly, but only after you shed the cocoon. We restrict our lives by the mental cocoon we live inside that judges what shows on the outside. Too often we are immediately judged for our outward appearance, but the judgment of a passing stranger isn’t what damages our self-esteem, it’s the judgments we pass on ourselves that stop us from reaching beyond physical limitations of beauty or fitness.

The comments of a parent or friend about our body or our demeanor sticks to our consciousness like Crazy Glue™. Trying on clothes, we stand in front of the mirror and the minute we think, “This is pretty” we attach it to the Crazy Glue™ comment;

“…but your chest is flat.”

“…but your butt sticks out.”

“…but you have knobby knees.”

Spending millions a year on diets, most women work on ridding themselves of the wrong but(t)s. We fight the process of being unfinished works. We want perfection that doesn’t exist for anyone, even the highest paid supermodel. In the pursuit of this unachievable ideal we lose sight of the real beauty that exists inside ourselves.

I average out. I’m too short to join the Lakers, too fat to fit through fence posts, too plain to model for Vogue or Popular Mechanics for that matter. But I’m the right height to reach the cookie shelf for my grandson, my weight doesn’t stop me from walking with friends and I’m not too fancy to think I’m better than anyone else who shares this world with me.

Physical beauty is worthless without internal values to back it up. I would trade a thousand “ideal” body parts for one compassionate soul. I’ve spent enough hours counting wrinkles, gray hairs and calories. From this day on, I’m counting the important things; my blessings.

Kathleen Healy Schmieder moved from Baltimore, Md. to Hendersonville, NC in 1995. She is a freelance writer with a monthly column on the Internet at MountainWonders.com, and is a contributor and columnist for the Hendersonville Tribune. She also has appeared in several productions with the community theatre group The Belfry Players and is preparing for a part with the Bits and Pieces group.
kathleen@mountainwonders.com