In this blog post, I describe what is my perfect boyfriend. The short answer is that he is a robot. The long answer is that I’ve thought much on this subject since watching A Woman’s Face starring the great Joan Crawford. In the 1941 film, which has now replaced Rebecca (1940) as my all-time favorite, Crawford plays a woman inflicted with self-hatred for her physical body, a face scarred by fire during childhood. She’s lived with anger, hiding her face, suppressing any prospect of joy because she detests her aesthetics. Crawford is given chance at a “new” face achieved by cosmetic surgery, and furthermore of love for her body, and love for a man. It is a very dark film, even the love scenes being such. But it is so rational, raw, and real that I am head-over-freaking-heels in love with the complete story and acting job by Crawford. And, she looked gorgeously thin and perfect, too, so watching her was a complete absolute treat. In fact, it consumed one week for me to finish the film because I wanted to unravel it slowly and perfectly. This is what I do to everything that I love. I take my time. I’m a long distance runner with regard to all of my activities.
The film has caused me to think on so many levels, and I’ll just unravel those ideas here.
I relate to this film firstly on the body-hatred level. Having lived 17 years with disordered eating practices, my weight fluctuated from 89 pounds to 181 pounds, many times, from here to the moon and back. It’s a wonder that my heart is functioning given the great amount of stress that I placed onto it. From an exterior perspective, in 2008, nine years into my disordered lifestyle, I had a brand new puppy and “thought” that my eating was under control, so I went under the knife to chop-off my Bulimic Breasts. Due to nine years of dramatic weight fluctuations, my breasts hung to the ground. Prior to the surgery, I literally duct-taped my breasts around my back, to create the flat-chested aesthetic. Each night I would peel off the tape, revealing ruptured skin on my back, on my breasts. It was quite terrible. So, in the film, each time that Crawford hides her face, I understand the pain that she feels, as I hid my breasts in the same manner.
This leads me to question: if I had a physical abnormality today, would I have cosmetic surgery? The answer is no, because I think that I am perfect, at this time. Thus a hypothetical of “would I” does not apply to me, as it is not rational. I only see imperfection, with regard to me, as happening with age. And imperfection is a big maybe. I think with a healthy, clean, consistent yoga and nutrition practice, and with fantastic skin care, I shall age gracefully and see such aging as perfection. But, if, in 30 years, I want enhanced cheekbones or wrinkle remover, I will not be against having work, if work will achieve my ever-evolving idea of perfection. I solicited this question of the “would you” to my Instagram girls, and everyone replied with a resounding, “YES,” in terms of having work done. I think this is interesting and represents that even the most ZenAF girls will do things that “seem” unconventional to a yoga life. This information supports my philosophy that there is no such thing as a “yoga life,” but rather as a human’s life, yoga simply being a condition with resulting conditions, often times very good conditions!! We do not need to pray in caves with candles anymore to be considered as living a yoga life. We simply need to be practicing yoga in the manner that serves our happiness.
The second manner in which I relate to this film is that Crawford’s character, despite being rigid, calculated, and much of a loner, does, indeed, want companionship. She says something very skin piercing: “I want to belong to the human race.” YES. Home run. My mouth dropped to the floor! I always say that I am human. I do not label myself as anything other than human. Because it permits me the freedom to do as many things, as little things, my things, in the pursuit of my own happiness. If I declare myself as Democrat, then I am shorting my capitalist nature and disgust for entitlement. If I declare myself as Republican, then I am shorting my social liberty and belief that a girl owns her body and decisions related to said body. If I declare myself as a yoga teacher, does that mean I am not a blogger? Or am I both? Who the heck cares, actually! Just be human, I tell myself, and that permits me to do it all. To the highest quality.
So Crawford’s character finds great love in this film. And the love is with a very powerful man in terms of kindness, in terms of skill, in terms of human character. And he’s very sexy. (you must watch the film in its entirety to know of whom I’m speaking because she experiences several men along the course, and I do not want you to think that I am attracted to ugly weasels). This made me think that I love only the films that mirror what’s happening in my life. Back in 2008 when I declared Rebecca as my favorite, there is a scene that hit me so hard. The new future Mrs. de Winter exclaims to Maximilian de Winter that she wants to be older and more sophisticated for him, as she fears that he does not like her youth. “I wish I were a woman of 36, dressed in black satin with a string of pearls!” she announces dramatically. And he sternly replies, “Please promise me never to wear black satin or pearls… or to be 36 years old.” I was once told by the man whom I loved that he could not marry someone 13 years his junior, and therefore NOT me (at a time when I so desperately wanted to be a Sewickley housewife – god!) so I looked to this film of Rebecca as hope that I could find a companion who would accept me as a human, not me as an age. And suddenly, since recently ending my love for this man, I have dropped Rebecca from first place in my film ranking, creating space for the new best: A WOMAN’S FACE. Creating space for A NEW LOVE?
Who could I possibly love?
At this point, I think it must be a robot. Unless there is someone in this world as dedicated to their passions, as selfish in their pursuit of happiness, as completely the mirror image of me but a man. I mean, in 10 years, we will have Virtual Reality as reality, and I can maybe create a robot to fit my specifications. When I explained this robot idea to my sister, today, she asked, “Well do you want him for just companionship or also for the pleasure zone?” Ha ha. The pleasure zone. Only my sister would use such verbiage! I answered, for companionship. Honestly, I have never met a man that I wanted TO “pleasure.” It’s all a very selfish act for me, and a man is not needed for it. Maybe one day I will be shown otherwise? Who knows. BUT for the time being, I am not compelled to participate in activities that take time from my schedule to coordinate. Hell, I don’t even take time for dinners with people because I like to eat the same thing each night at midnight, and most people do not.
A divine handsome brilliant cosmetic surgeon friend (irony considering the film just discussed!) texted me, in my dream, the other night. His text read, “Hi. I would like to make a beautiful vegan dinner for you.” He continued to describe this meal as having grains and being slow-cooked and bla bla bla. All that I could think, even in my dream, was, “No way José! I don’t eat grains. I don’t eat food cooked in oil. I don’t eat food cooked in pots and pans previously used to cook meat or secretions of animals! I am clean. And I don’t eat dinner to enjoy food in the company of another. I eat dinner to nourish in my own happy way, with my dog. Also, I have not had wine since 22 December, and I know you will invite me to enjoy wine with dinner, and I’ll refuse because I prefer gin because it has less sugar. I appreciate so much your kindness to create something vegan, but this scenario is just not my cup of tea!” And when I awoke, I thought, “MY GOD! Nobody will ever want to date me. Ha ha ha!”
So I need a robot.
I can switch him on at 11pm, and turn him off at 2am. And he can be made of Rearden Metal.
Should I use this as my OkCupid profile? I think it will weed out a bunch of the bozos. 🙂