i ran into my friend E outside of work today. it's rather chilly here in NYC, and yet, she had a big purple flower perched atop her crown of perpetually shiny, auburn hair. she just looks so precious and beautiful, i thought, as i stood there watching her tiptap towards me in her snazzy purple boots (they match the flower, of course).
i didn't tell her that, though. why didn't i tell her that? I SHOULD HAVE TOLD HER THAT! i'm not sure why i didn't tell her that. chock it up to frequent bouts of radical self-absorption.
later on, as that perky purple anemone blossomed in my mind, i thought about how important it is for me, a woman, to tell other women how beautiful, stunning, well-dressed, hottie-rocking-those-boots they are on a regular basis. we get the comments, welcome and otherwise, from the guys with relative frequency, and don't get me wrong, that's nice! needed! you think you might like to see me naked wearing only this aubergine bloom in my hair, and that is definitely a confidence booster!
but there's something, genuine and innocent and sisterly about getting props from another woman that just feels good and special and empowering. there is no ulterior motive; she just thinks you got it going on, and she took the time to tell you so as you left the bathroom stall and she went in. getting a compliment from another woman is almost like her saying in some little way that she might kinda wanna be like me when she grows up. i'd like to give that feeling to other women more often.
E. i'm sorry i didn't tell you before. i kinda wanna be like you when i grow up... flower 'n' all.
3 comments:
I often find compliments to be innately wounding. I know that sounds odd, but it's true. I've nothing against them, per se. Yet, somehow, they so often come across as invasive to me. Women, I think, are almost constantly assessing each other's bodies, clothes, general appearance and other attributes. Compliments often smack of this "appraisal" to me - underneath it all and Not necessarily meant by the complimenter. In fact, I try to be gracious when receiving a compliment. But - when people want to know where I got something (it's often from a thrift store), I feel odd, especially as I know they are conservative and would never shop at those places. Plus, I feel annoyed to be "Miss Thrift-Shop Wear" all the time. I could lie, but that's a pain, too. I really hate when they ask: "is that *new*". (Yet I've asked it myself, so I'm the hypocrite here, for sure)! Of course, I remember when I lost a ton of weight. The compliments rained down on me like snow....or hail. So many of them! Then people got used to the "new me" and they all dried up - the compliments. Then I proceeded to regain the weight. Complete Silence. Except from one lunkhead who wanted to konw why I was busily regaining all that weight? Hmmm. Addiction? Craziness? I'm a fat pig who can't stop gorging - keep away from me, you might get fat and piggy too!?! Or even: My body wants to be disturbingly fat even though it's hell on me and my health? That's the truth. What can I say? Compliments. I'm conflicted about them. I will say this, however: I LOVE that fabulous rose illustration that is used for this blog entry. Kudos for that gorgeous rose. Absolutely!
i hear ya, fauve. i mean the well-intentioned, genuine compliments like the one i wanted to give my friend. it was less about her body or her face, and more about the confident glow she was carrying with her. for me, giving a compliment to another woman makes me feel like i'm cutting through that competitive crap women often feel around each other. like all things, however, i suppose they can be used for ill.i choose to use them for good!
aubergine blooms=bliss.
Post a Comment