More Eyeliner

I’ve always considered my looks to be average. I’ve never felt like the prettiest girl in the room, but I’ve never felt unattractive either. Until recently... when I saw myself in a different (and very unflattering, fluorescent light).


I’m working on a project for my job that will allow clients to access a video-library of the exercises we use in our strength training program. In the videos, another coach demonstrates each exercise and I do a voice-over explaining it. It's a very cool project and I'm excited to be a part of it.  The problem is that each video clip also has an introduction giving the name of the exercise, explaining why we do it and the benefits. Thirty seconds of nothing but me speaking directly into the camera. And in the mock-ups we’ve done so far, that’s 30 seconds of nothing but me – dressed in gym clothes, with un-styled hair, wearing very little make-up, in a harshly-lit gym. Shooting it made me horribly uncomfortable, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw the result. I cried when I watched it the first time (and every time after that, truth be told). Now I try to leave the room anytime it’s being viewed for discussion or edits. My boss tried to talk to me about it and that made me cry too. When I watched that video, I felt ugly. And I wasn’t sure what to do with that, (but I knew deep-down that wearing a Sponge Bob piñata on my head wasn't a real option).  So I cried some more. And I hung my head, pushed my hair into my face, avoided looking people in the eye and generally felt uncomfortable.

Thursday night I was kid-free and would normally have come home from work, changed clothes and gone to my local bar for a beer. But this Thursday night I came home, turned on a TV show and contemplated staying in. It was when I looked in the bathroom mirror that it occurred to me what I needed. More eyeliner.

Some time ago, my friend, Katie replied on Facebook to a comment I had posted about my eyes being puffy from crying, with, “Use more eyeliner.” She almost immediately sent me a private message apologizing for being flip, but I told her no apology was necessary. She was absolutely right. And Thursday night I remembered Katie’s stellar advice. I got up off the couch, applied a different type of concealer, a slightly-brighter blush… and more eyeliner.

I sat next to a friend at the bar and Casey, the very sweet bartender, introduced me to two guys sitting a seat away from us (I’m pretty sure she was playing cupid for me and the guy sitting nearest me, but he only had eyes for Casey). Nevertheless, we all struck up a conversation and were having a great time. And I almost forgot about feeling ugly, but at least a little of that uncomfortable feeling still hovered around the edges.

Then I heard Matt (the guy sitting nearest me with the eyes for Casey) tell his friend, Mike, that he admired Mike’s “swagger.” Mike was laughing and denying he had any such thing and I began to laugh a little at their exchange. When Matt turned to me, I looked him in the eye, smiled and made a smart-ass remark about having his swagger-meter checked. That’s when Matt looked at me and said, “You have swagger.” I’m sure my face registered surprise.  My mouth was still forming the word, “Seriously?” when the friend with whom I was sitting said under his breath, “Dude, you have no idea.” So I swung my head around to him as the word exited my mouth...“Seriously?” He looked me in the eye, paused long enough to make me wonder what on earth was going to come out of his mouth next, but said only, “Pfft,” and returned to his beer.

Maybe eyeliner was all I needed. Or maybe it was the change of attitude that went along with it. Maybe all I needed was a little more sass… a little more Lori… to stop feeling ugly. To find my swagger. This week I plan to approach local businesses about participating in point of sale fundraising in support of Walk Now for Autism Speaks. I’ll be sure to wear my eyeliner – and work my swagger. They’ll be powerless to resist me.

And the video for work? That’s still going to be tough, I’m afraid. But maybe if I can muster the courage to watch the mock-up more closely, I’ll come up with some ideas to help me feel better about it (other than wearing the Sponge Bob piñata on my head). With a little sass, a little swagger (and a lot more eyeliner), anything’s possible.