How much do looks define your self-image?

[Jolt]

To answer the original question, not a whole lot. I don't spend much time thinking about how I look, or doing things like makeup, keeping up with the latest fashions etc. (not that there's anything wrong with doing those things within reason). Just not really interested, and for me a lot of that stuff is just a pain so I only pay a lot of attention to it when I really need to (like certain professional situations or special occasions). I do like to look healthy, but that comes naturally from being active and eating reasonably well so it's not something I find myself thinking much about.

[GLC1968]

However, I have to admit...I was never "cool" or "hot" when I was 20 and was rarely comfortable in my skin. But I had a confidence that pushed me past that and that's what got me multiple job offers when I graduated.

I think this is what my issue is. People who know me in real life would never guess that I have this internal insecurity. It's also never held me back in my career, but it manifests itself in subtle ways one of which is my ability to project 'hotness'.

Did you ever switch over from wanting to be thought of as older, to wishing you were younger?

I think I might be getting to this point, but it's not due to how I look (yet). It's mostly because I don't recover or heal as well as I used to!

I actually still get mistaken for being younger than I am. It's not quite as pronounced as it used to be (up until the past 5 years, people truly thought I was still in my 20's). BUT, my lifestyle is such that what I look like means next to nothing to me. It's important that my husband is attracted to me, and it's important that I'm presentable at work...but other than that, I'm never even in social situations where what I look like matters anymore. Though, it's this same lifestyle that dictates that I am often dressed like a bum, wearing ugly shoes, covered with mud, wearing a baseball hat (or a bandana) and totally without makeup. If I can look, at the very least, unoffensive under these conditions, I figure I'm doing ok!

[lunacycles]

Ya know, I was mildly "hot" in my 20's, but it made absolutely no difference to my quality of life. If you have not a wit of self confidence (mine was very low), it makes no difference what you look like. If you are depressed, as I often was, being attractive has no value. I am 43 now, and happier than I have ever been. I look older--a lot older, thanks to being raised underneath the rocky mountain sun sans sunscreen my entire youth..., and--except for the skin cancer issues--I pretty much dig it. My smile lines have merged with my eye lines. My hair line is doing some interesting things, but that's okay. I am much more engaged with life and living, and that seems to make all the difference. I go through phases where I am in relationships and doing that work, then lovely periods of solitude where I think: this rocks! I really have a hard time with people surgically improving their looks: I just find it painful to know that people think it truly matters, and spend their hard earned money to perk things up. How will this look when they are 75? That is my question. Anyone see Death Becomes Her? I have a mother like one of the posters: stunningly beautiful her whole life but she never knew it or truly felt/believed it, so it made no difference.

Beauty and looking youthful are completely irrelevant to happiness. This I know. If anything, they are a hindrance to happiness because they are so valued and so difficult to maintain, and have so very little to do with one's actual character.

[smurfalicious]

Whenever we got down on ourselves my friends and I would play something we called the gene pool game. Basically, it just got us to pull our heads out of our butts. The deal was, if you could have an entirely new body and appearance, but you had a 50/50 chance of getting to be um, let me phrase this carefully, "conventionally attractive and thin" or "conventionally unattractive and morbidly obese," would you do it? Answer was always no, rather happy with me thanks.

Back when I was shaking my a** for cash I cared a lot about my looks. It was brutal because you equated the amount you made any given night to your self worth, and your appearance. I tried not to, but it was hard. It definitely was an eye opening experience. It also opened my eyes to the wide array of what men find attractive. I was really scared when I started because I wasn't super skinny and since I got um my "twins" have lacked fullness in the bottom half and I hated them. One night there was a customer, gorgeous ooooh goodness gorgeous, I thought was digging me. He ended up spending a ton of cash on a Malibu Barbie type girl and then towards the end of the evening bought one dance from me. He told me that he had wanted a dance from me all night but she was being all pushy. Huh. Another guy spent over $100 on me in 1/2hr because he loved that I wasn't all plastic and had curves.

I must say I bummed out when I grew into my legs, I was a leggy kid. But, that's life. I guess spending most of my life around horses I never worried to much about looking cute because I was going to get dirty. I was really baffled when the horse show mom's were doing their girls makeup. Really? For a 4-H show? She's 10!!!

So come middle school and into high school I had a rude awakening when girls got downright nasty about how you did your hair, wore your makeup, and got dressed. My parents got divorced around that time and mom was struggling to feed and clothe us, and I was shooting up in height. I got mocked for my too short pants every day at the bus stop until one night in tears I had my aunt take me to K-Mart where I used my allowance to buy longer pants. I was sooo sad because my mom bought me these super cute outfits that all coordinated with matching colored denim.

Later I decided that because GAP khaki wasn't my thing I'd go through angsty goth phase. Ahhh, the old days, when it was goth, not emo, and we had better taste in music. Give me Sisters of Mercy any day!

When I took up mountain biking two things happened that peeved me. One, my mom pointed out that I was losing weight in such a manner that it sounded like I desperately needed to. Two, yall will love this, the boyfriend who got me into mountain bike said, no lie, "Most women take up biking because they like how it makes their bodies look." WTF? Yes, the giant hematoma on the back of my calf from a wicked top tube tango is soooo sexy! Okay, I was proud of it but for reals?

Another thing that irks me, on the rare occasion I put make up on, I really detest the compliments. Like I wasn't good enough before, but now that I've painted my face with crap I am? Lipstick? Don't even get me started. Lipstick was originally intended to replicate the female sex organs in a state of arousal. Hurray! Makes me want purple to scare away icky guys!

So I guess that brings me to now. I've learned to be happy in my own skin. Being strong and healthy is good. If I enjoy a little too much dark beer during the cold, dark days of winter and pudge up a bit, whatever. It will go away in due time. I'd rather give in the Ben and Jerry's ice cream now and then than live a life obsessed with my weight, what I eat, etc. Yeah I've had a few gray hairs since I was 14 but the coolest teacher I ever had was completely gray and would dye little inconspicuous strips whatever color of the rainbow she felt. There's a size I'd rather be it, but it's not too far away from where I am, and at that size I have no boobs or a butt, so that's kind of lame. I never ever broke out in high school, but suddenly I'm playing catch up. Payback for something I guess. I think I'm cute but not hot or sexy, and that's cool, there's a market for cute. People thought mom was 30 in her mid 40s so hopefully I don't start sporting my dad's genes out of nowhere.

Hmm, straying here. I guess I'm glad I grew up in an era, and with parents who didn't expect me to stand still and look pretty. My grandma on dad's side sure believed that was my purpose. She thought it was great I rode horses until she found out I groomed, tacked up, and cleaned stalls myself. Mom taught me all about construction and carpentry, how to play a mean game of softball, encouraged me when I became a star pitcher. Dad took me to riding lessons and horse shows faithfully every weekend and made sure I knew horses were work. My friends taught me to work on my truck, my bike, how to build fences and irrigate hay fields. My job on the guest ranch taught me to stomach scrubbing disgusting wounds and how to keep a cool head in veterinary emergency. So that's what defines my self image. If I need to toss my hair in a pony tail and wear something I don't mind getting cow after birth on so be it. If that makes me less attractive to a guy, I don't want him. Curiously though, I found wearing ratty shoes, grubby Carhartt work shorts, some ancient t-shirt from the bottom of the drawer, and a baseball cap into the lumber yard would get the attention of all the young guys, even a seriously enhanced Barbie doll with a pulse was in the store.

I could want to look like other people all day, but I kind of like me. In line at Whole Foods with a coworker she made a snarky remark about all the starve yourself to be thin girls on magazine covers. Instantly we weren't popular so I finished it off and said, "Oh, you mean skinny fat girls? Ya know, the ones who are thin but have no definition? No tone?" Oooooh, collective Care Bear "Glare" from the good people of Boulder. So we paid and took our wobbly from sprints at the track, but well toned legs and butts the heck out of there!