The Elephant in the Room
"Be kind, everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." ~ Plato (and me)
I’ve thought about the story I’m going to tell you. Should I share it? Should I speak to the woman I reference in the story instead? Should I practice Mel Robbin’s recommendation to “Let Them”—or just simply let it go. I’ve decided to share it and I’ll tell you why at the end.
I was in Indianapolis this past week to visit my 92-year-young mother. Indianapolis is like my relationship with my former husband, It’s complicated.
I have many wonderful memories of Indiana AND it’s also where early damage was done that I wrote about in my book, Autobiography of an Orgasm. I did the healing around the assaults that I wrote about in that book but Indiana is still a scar and when I’m there, I remember. Anytime I get caught up in old stories, I take a moment to dance it out. (Try it, it works.)
I always arrive in Indiana with the hope that there is “No new damage” which means being mindful of places and conversations and who I decide to see.
This trip was to attend the wedding of a good friend’s son. The day before the wedding knowing that I left my makeup behind in California, I decided to try and book a last minute session with someone to do my makeup. The first two people I reached out to were booked but then I remembered someone I went to 30 years ago and when I text her I felt lucky that she responded she would extend her day for me and do my makeup.
When I arrived we hugged and I sat in the makeup chair and we had easy conversation like we did 30 years ago. She was someone I admired from her 40 years of being in the beauty business—she made many of us in Indy look and feel good.
We caught up as she put concealer over the two inch scar on my nose from the removal of basal cell skin cancer in 2023. The she added foundation to cover the tiny popped blood vessels that showed up on my face after I screamed when I found out my son Charlie died in 2022. As she applied eye makeup, we had a poignant conversation about Charlie’s death and she offered many thoughtful words about life and death. By the time she applied blush and touched up my face, it had been 45 minutes of meaningful conversation. Once again, I felt really fortunate to have gotten a last minute appointment with such a legend in the beauty industry. I peeked in the mirror, loved my look, and that’s when she backed away and looked at me up and down then tilted her head and said, “Well, we have to talk about the elephant in the room…”
I leaned forward to listen because I didn’t know there was an elephant in the room. I had no idea what was coming next. “You used to be young and thin and beautiful…” she said. “What happened to your body?”
Her words stunned me into silence. She continued to tell me that my BODY was the elephant in the room.
You mean my body at 62 is a problem for you because it’s taking up a little more space right now? My body that has survived three episodes of anaphylactic shock where I was near death? My body that I spent five years healing from the damage from sexual assault? My body that spent most of 18 months in bed after the death of my son in 2022? My body that has somehow kept me alive the past three years through immense heartache and grief?
I didn’t say any of that to her because it was one of those moments where I didn’t know how to respond. She kept talking and telling me about how I used to be this and that all based on my looks and size. I knew I needed to get out of there. It concerned me that this woman who works on women all day long was such a harsh judge of me, of others.
I rushed to leave and actually gave her an extra tip as I was in fight or flight mode. If I had a body issue or an eating disorder, her words could have been damaging. I don’t. Mostly I was thinking that as women we still have to put up with this shit—and from another woman??
As much as I wish she didn’t make ME the elephant in the room, I see the synchronicity in getting the last minute appointment with her so it could happen, so she could project her own issues onto me. Somewhere along the way, someone probably judged her so she’s just passing on what she knows. I’m calling it out (or in) to a bigger community because we can’t afford to pass on judgement to each other and to our daughters and granddaughters. Or our sons.
Just a few days earlier my son Willie and I spoke about better things to say to someone other than commenting on their looks.
I like your smile in this photo.
Your energy reminds me of sunshine.
You always leave me feeling better about life.
Our bodies are over 70% water and water holds intention (look at the work of Dr. Emoto and Veda Austin). I washed off the makeup and her words as soon as I could.
The next day after my “elephant in the room experience” I had another makeup artist, Allison, do my makeup for the wedding and we shared stories and laughs. Allison is someone who always leaves me feeling uplifted. And, damn, my makeup looked the best it’s ever looked. (I had booked with her two months in advance. Let me know if you want her information.)
I love getting to know my body at 62 and I’m especially appreciative of it pulling me through a few rough few years. When you look at me, I want to remind you that you are looking at a miracle. (And you are one, too.) I don’t need to be told I’m “beautiful inside and out” or “I’m sorry this happened to you”…I’m good. I also don’t want to send negative energy to the woman who told me I was the elephant in the room. Let’s dance it out instead.
Thank you for being here. Every Wednesday, I offer a writing prompt for paid ($8 per month) subscribers to Substack along with other bonuses like valuable writing and publishing resources. The first Wednesday of every month I offer the prompt for free to all Substack subscribers.
Inspiration comes from the Latin word inspirare, to breathe. Here are some things to breathe into this week and beyond:
My friend Mary Lofgren has a feel-good podcast about beauty and embodiment. “The thing I love most in this world is creating beautiful, immersive experiences for people to come home to themselves.” ~ Mary Lofgren
I wish for every women (of any age) to take at least one Qoya-inspired movement class in her lifetime. Created by Rochelle Schieck one of the first messages you’ll receive in class is: “There is no way to do it wrong.” Qoya absolutely helps me feel good in my body at every age.
Me leading a Qoya class in Costa Rica
3. If you liked James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces (2003), writer Sandra “Sam” Smith reminds me of him with her brutally authentic prose when writing about first drinks and last drinks and how addiction can spiral in a family until someone is brave enough to speak up. Sam shows us how it’s not the addiction that’s the problem, it’s the roots of where it started and how it’s often easier to bring a bottle to your lips instead of the truth. Sam’s books THE ANCESTORS’ GARDEN and THE AFTER LIGHT should be required reading for families, especially ones that need to show up for hard conversations with loved ones and get back to love. Sam is one of those writers who you want to read over and over. I asked her to read one of my favorite chapters from her book THE ANCESTORS’ GARDEN. It’s 15 minutes of pure truth and light that begins with her telling about a day that she would choose to live over again.
More information on Betsy’s books and films at betsybmurphy.com
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