Tuesday, April 23, 2013

A Blemished Life By: Karen Pilarski

Purple and brown swollen patch appeared on my arm.  I had the foggiest idea where it came from or how I caused the infliction. To my knowledge I didn’t even realize it was there until I felt soreness when I touched my arm.  The bruise stuck out like a sore thumb. Even though I knew it was there, people continuously pointed it out as if I didn’t look at my arm ever. My unfortunate incident inspired me to think about blemishes/bruises. 

In vanity we want to look attractive. This means not having acne or splotches of redness on our faces.  Luscious full lips, Curled locks of hair with stray hairs pinned down.  In reality there is a desire for others to have a similar perception of perfection. 

Often people want others to see us as having it all. Having it all means a big house, faithful spouse, behaving kids and a rewarding career. The interesting thing about having ‘it all’ is that it is sometimes an illusion. The illusion is similar to caking on powder to cover pimples and sun spots.  The ugliness is hidden from view so that life appears to be in order. How unsightly would it be if there was a cheating spouse, evil spawn children and late bills? Other blemishes could include working as a stripper, sleeping with a colleague or stealing. 

Recently Reese Witherspoon was arrested after her husband was caught drunk driving. For decades this Academy Award winner was viewed as the ‘good girl.’ One bad choice and she now has this blemish on her mostly flawless profile. In time the bruise of her judgment call will fade. As do all bruises or blemishes. They may hide from view, but they are still there. 

My own bruises/blemishes have come in the form of growing up poor. I was bullied and teased for my big family that couldn’t afford much.  Like Witherspoon I too have made mistakes that were masked away. I’ll wait on confessing until I write that tell all book I keep threatening to do.  There is no such thing as perfection or a perfect life. 

At night makeup is scrubbed off and hair is let down. In the wicker waste basket are napkins with smears of blue glitter, red lipstick and black mascara. On the sink counter are damp clumps of hair stuck to the brush.  In morning’s light upon waking, the true face is shown. In natural form we look clean and pure. Exposed and letting it all hang out.  If comfortable a few close to us get to see us in our true form.