Yep, it's true...someone asked me that very question! Only imagine the inquiry in broken english by a middle aged chinese (?) woman. Yep, that's also true. Now, granted, I've been acquainted with this lady for many years now. I believe she asked this out of sincere concern and not to poke fun. I have to admit, I'm rather proud of how I handled this situation in retrospect. I explained my battle with Bell's palsy and went on to share the more pleasant additions to my life, i.e. pictures of Queen B (or, sweet baby Baylor as she is better known).
Would you believe me if I told you I had actually forgotten my affliction for a time prior to this unexpected query? I did. It's easy to forget when those closest to you repeatedly inform you that you look perfectly fine. You become accustomed to the assymetrical reflection in the mirror and develop a certain level of acceptance. Let's face it (ahem, no pun intended)...there's not much choice in the matter. You either stop living and wallow in self-pity or you get up, dust your self off and face the world with your chin up.
We've all posed the questions, "Does this outfit make me look fat?", "What do you think of my new hair cut?", "Isn't this electric blue eyeshadow just to die for?" Heck, we've been asked those questions a time or two as well. Did we really think those skin tight acid washed jeans were flattering? You know, the pants that had to be zipped by use of the curved end of a metal coat hanger while laying flat on the bed? I was six or seven when I was donning such 'garb'age...the acid washed jeans that is, just not so tight. I think I was sporting a "spike" back then, too. Correction, I know I was rocking that hairstyle. My grandmother, unsolicited personal stylist, provided me this hair cut on a whim unbeknownst to my mother. Nanny thought it would be cute for my brother and I to have similar hair cuts. In case you aren't aware, it's basically a modified mullet with the top portion of the 'do being styled with just enough hair gel to leave your hair resembling the spines of a porcupine. Not all mullets are business in the front and party in the back. The spike was a full out, all around party kind of 10-90. Thank goodness I was too young to care. My mother, however, was heartbroken for me at the time. Maybe even a little mortified herself. I'm willing to bet she'll cringe if you ask her about it today.
Oh, yeah, back to the point I was attempting to make. Those closest to us and who love us the most are also the most likely to 'fib' to us when we ask such questions for fear of hurting us. When you have a permanent affliction even strangers will do the same. The only exception are those who have yet to develop and/or refine their tact due to youth, psychological issues or language barriers. They don't know how else to verbalize it other than the was it truly is.
It's refreshing.
For a while there I thought I was losing my mind. Was I seeing things others weren't? Was I obsessing? I certainly didn't feel, and still don't feel, as if I was standing in front of a mirror for lengthy periods of time analyzing every wrinkle, spasm or assymetry in my face. I do, however, know a few others who spend hours picking apart their reflection for lesser troubles. I won't out you though; that would be tactless.
There is a certain amount of agitation that stems from the unwillingness of others to acknowledge the true state of something. Similarly, there is a healthy amount of appreciation for those who possess the instinct to protect others who are teetering on the edge of defeat. There is no way I could have handled such brutal honesty six months ago. I would have been absolutely devastated.
So, thank you to the candid chinese lady and to all those who were more diplomatic in your communications with me. Honesty and sympathy are both admirable traits.
-Belle
