Do feminists wear lipstick? Yes, and it's red, darling.

I was talking with my mom earlier today about self improvement, specifically all the things I've done since I've been here, which fall into two (intertwined) categories: outer and inner.

One of things that prevented me from making major changes in my self, appearance and otherwise, was not wanting to even admit that there was a problem- naming it makes it real, and if it's real it's not going away by magic. One of the things I admire most about my friend Becky is her very courageous move on her fitness blog of posting a pic of her in her bikini and writing about how feeling embarrassed about her body was one stumbling block to getting to her goals and that was going to stop now.You can read her inspiring blog here:
http://flabtofabbecky.blogspot.com/.

I was given a unique chance by moving across an ocean from everyone who knew me to start over, make over my life, from top to bottom, without any well meaning objections, worries, comments, and bad reactions from the peanut gallery. So in the last 3 years I've done a lot, and changed a lot.

Inner changes:

The biggest thing that's changed is how I see my market value, both in the working world, and the romantic world. Having a real career that I'm very good at, and having a high demand job in a buyer's market will do a lot for your self esteem. Now, all that can of course be taken away at any time, but I've worked so hard for so many years as a nanny, store clerk, day care worker, and the like, to finally make it to a decent job where I can do rewarding, creative work, is a wonderful feeling.

On the romantic front, I somehow managed to reset the whole game here (partially by no effort on my own, I increased my market value to supermodel level just by being white and decent looking, but it feels good to be a high status partner and sought after, even if it is a bit hollow at times), so that I am no longer dating men who are far, far, below my level so that I feel safe that they'll never leave me, and if they do, no great loss. Dating Kent is sometimes a bit scary because he's such a high status partner, a true equal to me, and someone that I don't feel superior to, but yet he's not someone I put on a pedestal (anyone who manages to lose three phones in three weeks isn't James Bond). I've dated some really sweet, wonderful people who, while they were very nice, were way below me in career ambitions, intelligence, overall "having their life together", looks, or any combination of all of the above.

Finally gaining street cred-- and finally wanting to leave the game behind.

After a literal lifetime of chasing the high rollers, parachuting into a city, clocking all the big fish and setting my cap to roll with them at all cost (Lesbian High Council, anyone?), when I got here, I was handed the keys to the city in a way by my well connected friend Ha-Ha, and while we rolled around in his well appointed car on our way to another hotel bar to drink top shelf liquor and look out over the whole city, which he sort of own, I thought to myself "Do I really want to start this up again? Do I really want to Gucci Gucci Louis Louis, Basic Bitches?" I still don't 100% know the answer to that, but especially on New Year's Eve, surrounded by the top of the ex pat crowd, in an ultra lounge, toasting the New Year with free champagne, I felt the melancholy that can only come from seeing the ultimate hollowness of the dreams you used to have, that have now gone dark.

The scaffolding (outer changes)

I've written about some of these, such as choosing to dye my (mostly white at this point, anyway) hair back to its natural color (brown with auburn highlights) after 15 years of coloring it red, but I've also made other changes one by one.

Seeing a dermatologist about my skin. I never, never, ever, talk or write about my skin problems because it's an extreme sore spot with me, and even though it's been handled now, it's still sensitive, so I'll keep it short. I worked with a doctor to get out the big guns and take care of my unresponsive breakouts and it has made a huge, huge difference in my mind. It hurts me to write this, but I'm doing this for those of you who wrote something like this that touched me and that I could relate to: I felt like a failure of some kind because of my imperfect skin, it was always there in the back of my mind, every time I looked in the mirror or a lover looked at my face. I felt like I had to compensate in some way for this flaw by being extra lovable, and I always wondered if I was getting passed over because of this flaw. Now (and fingers crossed in the future) I don't have to worry about those things anymore. It's been 20 years that I had this problem. 20 years. I'll never be perfect, in fact I'll carry some of the scars forever, but it's a sea change from what it used to be. And that was a priceless gift that only those who've been through it can understand.

I went to the dentist for the first time in 10 years. The dentist was thrilled and kept exclaiming over my perfect teeth ("if anything you brush too hard!" He sang). It wasn't too bad, I just got my teeth cleaned and whitened (subtly, not glaringly) as a Christmas treat for myself, and they look great.

I started eating "clean" (mostly fruits and veg and little or no bread, dairy, preservatives, or sugar) during the week, with "cheat" days on the weekend, and I also just hired a personal trainer so I can combine the modified eating with exercise. The lifestyle I'm leading (at a desk for up to 12 hours a day) won't allow the weight I'd like to kick to the curb to lose itself and as much as I'd love to believe shopping burns calories, it really isn't cutting it.

Because it's so reasonably priced, I now get regular professional services at the salon, such as hair cut and color, and bi monthly manicures, pedicures, and foot spas. It's made a subtle but significant change in how I carry myself and how I see myself.

Investing in how you look, as a female in a male dominated business (and the upper ranks of the call center industry are almost ALL men) is a must- it sends a message that you're serious, and you're a contender. You take yourself seriously and you value yourself. I could argue all day about if it's acceptable for a self identified feminist to modify my appearance to raise my value, but the bottom line in the real world is it works, and I'm glad it's a choice I can even make.