Vanity?

Last week, I had my eyelids lifted. According to the doctor it was necessary to correct my vision, so I didn't argue. (Even though the thought of a knife coming that close to my eyebrows was a little nerve wracking.) I didn't argue because the end result was that I might look a little better and even though I'm not particularly vain, there is that desire to look the best that I can, considering what I have to work with.

The bad part is I actually scoff at my friends who fantasize about plastic surgery. I have several friends who are strikingly attractive but who sit and obsess over imperfections that are (a) not noticeable to a normal person, or (b) actually give their faces more beauty and character. I am reminded that this phenomenon is nothing new as I have been re-reading Jane Austen's Persuasion this week (the annotated version of course). Several of the characters are obsessed with their appearance to the point of absurdity, and the main character wins back the love of her life after her looks radically change for the better. Oh and she's also of high moral character and well read but ....

And here's a confession. When the surgeon told me they might remove my breasts, my first thought was great, now I can get implants, and they won't drag the floor when I walk anymore. It was but a fleeting thought and was soon replaced by the realities of what that kind of surgery and recovery would mean, but there was that moment.

I made a commitment that on the coming Monday I would return to wearing makeup and going hatless. But now as I look at the nasty bruises around my eyes and the Frankenstein stitches across my lids, I hesitate. Would people think I was a trucker who got into a barfight? I'm tired of being thought of as "cancer girl" and I want to return to normalcy, however, not sure this is the look I'm going for. Maybe another week or 4 or 5.