I never thought a tube of mascara mattered much – until I needed it to. I mean it’s silly in theory, but doing my makeup each morning gives me a reason to start the day. And no, it isn’t about wanting to look different – it is a time that is mine, and mine alone.
When people are struggling mentally, almost everyone recommends routine. Get sleep. Get outside. Set goals. It can help stabilize the mind when everything else feels out of control. But, they forget to mention, that routine begins small. Sometimes it is the most mundane that brings normalcy back to a chaotic brain.
It’s grounding. When life feels overwhelming the act of applying makeup offers a meditative almost therapeutic rhythm. It gives you a task, one of which so many actually enjoy, that calms the noise polluting the brain. And it’s predictable. Sometimes in a world where nothing else is. For people dealing with anxiety, depression or grief tapping blush to your cheeks offers comfort, control and maybe even a reason to keep going.
Makeup, inherently, is about looks. But why does that need to be weaponized? It has power. Power to change how people feel. A swipe of mascara brightens tired eyes, a shade of lipstick makes someone feel hot again. Makeup isn’t appearance, it’s emotion. It translates into something deeper, a sense of readiness, pride and presence.
Dealing with a hard time recently, all I wanted to do was wallow in bed. Instead, however, I grabbed my concealer. Not because I had anywhere to go, but because I wanted to feel like me again. Even in some hospitals cancer patients can participate in makeup workshops as a part of recovery – not to hide what they are going through, but to reclaim identity. Makeup is magic.
Makeup is constantly being dismissed as vain and frivolous. Words, honestly, that are only used to attack the women it brings comfort to. So, get out of bed, grab that makeup bag and attack the day. Maybe this time with a winged eyeliner.