The Make-up Fanatic

My make-up is my armor.

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(Brows: Mumuso. Eyes: Nyx Wicked Dreams Palette, Bobbie Cosmetics Ultra Fine Eyeliner, Maybelline Hypercurl Mascara. Face: L’oreal True Match w4, ELF Blush and Bronzer Duo Turks & Caicos, LA Girl Velvet Hi-Lite. Lips: Maybelline Nude Nuance.

I am not the best make-up artist in the world. I don’t claim to have perfect make-up skills that can wow other people when they see me. What I have is anxiety; and this makes me put on make-up everyday.

I am not ashamed of my face. Though I do not possess beauty that can make everyone turn their heads, I am not insecure because of it. However, everyday is a battle against outside forces that seem to make me feel vulnerable to a fault. Before I even set one foot out my door, my depression starts inserting worries to my head:

“You’re not good enough.”
“There’s no point in trying.”
“Go back to bed.”

So everyday, I put on my armor to silence the voices that force their way into my head. This mask, though not necessary to the things I’m about to do that day, is necessary for me to summon strength. This mask conceals the tiny creature living inside her body traumatized by life and showcases a confident woman who knows what she’s doing. This mask shows a girl who’s got it together, even if that is not exactly true deep inside. This mask is the product of my soul hanging by a thread, the fine line between trying and giving up. This mask is my last line of defense. This mask (most days) is all I’ve got to keep me going.

As always, everyday to overcome.

 

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