Having your makeup done professionally can be an exciting and transformative experience. The skilled hands of a makeup artist can enhance your features, boost your confidence, and leave you feeling like the best version of yourself.
However, I feel a mix of emotions when the artist is all excited to show me the finished result, and she passes me the mirror, and I look directly at what’s in front of me, me, but a different version of me.
Despite the flawless artistry, I feel confronted.
The layering of products makes fine lines and wrinkles appear more pronounced than ever, and those fine lines and wrinkles, although with me for some time now, are confronting and truth-telling.
They tell me I’ve been dehydrated for too long, and they tell me I lacked self-care; they show me I’ve experienced immense stress and that I probably should have slept more.
The truth is, it’s not so much the lines or the makeup; I have never felt beautiful in my own skin.
This artist I’ve been to see her twice, and from the get-go, I gave her the heads up and announced, you will do a great job, but I won’t like it; it’s a me problem, not a you problem.
This honesty may have been a first for her, particularly when we first met, because she remembered me when I walked in months later for a second appointment and was very accommodating. We talked continuously, and we explored my thoughts, observations, etc.
I walk into the salon looking one way, and I walk out looking another.
I walk in rushed and somewhat assertive and then leave feeling rather shy and uncomfortable.
Before I leave, she asks if she could take photos for her portfolio, and I agreed; yesterday, I was recommending her to someone but couldn’t find her contact details, so I jumped on Instagram and guess what I saw?
The photos from both my visits were posted, and the funny thing is that all this time later, I like how I look.
The Patty project 
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