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| 1 | The story of Narcissus is a Greek Myth about a beautiful youth, the son of the river god Cephisus and the nymph Liriope. Vain and aloof, it was prophesied by a seer that he would only live to old age if he never came to know himself. He was arrogant, haughty, and indifferent and after spurning the love of Echo, a nymph, the god Nemesis cursed him by making him fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. Naturally he could never have his love returned and he died of grief. He was transformed into a beautiful flower commonly known as daffodils, buttercups, jonquils and, of course, Narcissus. |
| 2 | I believe this myth is a powerful illustration of the trap that we set for ourselves if we as individuals and as the greater whole focus on only our reflections of our outward appearance. With a different spin on this concept of narcissism, I will admit I became narcissistic myself and now that my image in the mirror is old and fat and faded, I am having to deal with feelings of inadequacies. Interestingly enough, I have longed for the time when I lost my "beauty." People can be cruel. A friend of my husband's insulted me once asking snidely when my baby was due. He knew I wasn't pregnant. He told me years later that he was surprised that I got mad at him. He assumed that I had a healthy self-esteem just because I was "one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen." Ironic, isn't it? Society places so much value on appearance and assumes if one is comely, that is a virtue in itself. That if someone is beautiful (by their standards; "beauty is subjective, after all"), then the world is her oyster. I'll wager that a large percent of models and actresses if they do have a great sense of self-esteem it isn't based on the one "asset" that can be taken away by the aging process; rather they have learned to value themselves as unique individuals who just happen to be perceived as beautiful. |
| 3 | The process that made me narcissistic was an insidious and convoluted path. I am the third born. I have two talented and strong-willed older sisters who even spoke for me when I was asked my name by a new person. I was shy and soft spoken. I learned early that people judged me not on my merits, i.e. intelligence, talent or any other aspect of my personality. I was singled out because I was pretty. I was never expected to develop myself. As a teenager I became obsessed with my outward appearance, which is pretty much par for the course for teenagers. I had my share of popularity but I was still shy. I once witnessed Mary Ann Carnahan reluctantly expose herself due to the relentless insistence of her date. Our clique was walking down the street between the pizza parlor and the local theatre. She was unwillingly letting him peep down her sweater as she pulled it shyly down. She was the most popular girl in our school. I felt sorry for her. It seemed to me that Mary Ann did not have a healthy self-esteem even though she was beautiful. I understood that completely. Did she feel her only value was her outward appearance? Had she had no experience of self beyond the reflection that she saw in others eyes and her own reflection in the mirror? |
| 4 | What is interesting is that even though others valued me for my appearance, and I became more and more obsessed with my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't see what they saw. My nose is crooked, my teeth are yellow and my eyes are little and on different planes, my figure certainly wasn't impressive. As I grew older I faced a crippling mental disorder clinically known as Bipolarism or Manic Depressive Disorder. Being depressed most of the time with low self-esteem I became more and more dependent on others' opinions of me. To bolster my terrible self-image, I started to actively seek the approval of men by wearing seductive clothes and wearing lots of makeup. I subconsciously believed that if that's what they want, then I'll really show them how appealing I can be. |
| 5 | Now my daughter is 16 and is a striking beauty. I try hard not to emphasize her appearance. Every day she says she is fat and spends hours literally looking in the mirror, doing her hair and her makeup. I am afraid for her. She is unusually bright and articulate but still has a low self-image. I have talked to her about this in the hopes that she can avoid putting so much stock in her appearance. I suggested that she could become a lawyer. She ate it up with a spoon. No one had ever said that to her before. All she had been told was that she looked like a model, that she is pretty. She is so much more than that. |
| 6 | I have always been fascinated by the story of Narcissus and the tragedy. I know how important it is to have a positive self-image to be successful in life. Perhaps like Narcissus I can be transformed. Not as a beautiful flower, but as a woman who is wise and values herself and seeks out those that see her spirit and not her face. |
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Nominated by Dr. Bradley Stiles, Writing Instructor
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