Mirror image of the ideal me. Naturally slim and thin, perfect skin, glassy straight black hair - like all the actresses in the Thai Lakorn movies. Not a single strand out of place or a smudge of make up anywhere on her face. She is the type who eats healthy, exercises daily and most importantly sticks to her routine. She is also a good driver. She doesn’t obsess about the little things either...
This other woman is genuinely nice but not too nice that people walk all over her. She is tolerant and fair, doesn’t rush to judgment and she stands her ground on her beliefs. Feisty as a cat but doesn’t bark at people by indulging in pitching an undignified walleyed fit with total strangers online. Nope, she would never do that…
Well she is the person I aspire to be, the less self-destructive me. She is the type of person who doesn’t procrastinate till the last minute to meet an important health review deadline. Nope, she is always on top of things. Physically fit and mentally strong, doesn’t crack under pressure and emotionally – she is more stable than jell-o. She certainly doesn’t wig out when her man doesn’t call her.
Of course I know I’m not the only woman who feels this way. I talk to my girlfriends about living with this “other woman”. My guy friends can’t seem to relate but maybe it’s because men don’t walk around with their perfect inner-self hanging over their shoulders. They are just good at shrugging it off I guess. I wish I could do the same. I wish I could say that women in general don’t care what other people think but deep down inside they do…We aim to please most of the time. You may disagree with me ladies but the next time you do something, ask yourself if it’s really for you or somebody else.
My Perfect Twin is my mother’s dream. If only I was able to absorb her instructions, meet the societal expectations of a traditional Khmer girl growing up in a less conservative western culture, listen to the well-meaning advice received from my girlfriends and feed into the not so subtle pressure of the endless images of the perfect woman paraded across me in movies and magazines. Improve thy self. Be perfect. Thanks largely to the billion dollar advertising industry, who have managed to mold the modern women into one of the Barbie doll collectibles or worse…the Bratz Dolls. Those dolls with their ghetto fabulousness and big owl eyes give me nightmares. But I digress…
Fortunately I’m told that as we grow older we learn to make peace with ourselves and to embrace our flaws. Well as impossible as it sounds I’d like to fast forward time without aging to reach this serene state of mind. I like myself well enough on most days except when I’m riding the crimson wave (And yes I am…) but this isn’t a spoke in my menstrual cycle folks. I just keep thinking I can improve myself an itty bitty more but to what extent do I stop trying to achieve this flawless version of me?
I guess time will only tell right? Of course I do like to think that as we women age; there are some splendid surprises that come along the way. We give the best advice to our peers when they suffer. We stumble on an expensive yet beautiful dress and buy it on impulse, only to look absolutely amazing. We grow and our perfect twin evolves too but she starts to look less than perfect because at some point we realize that we have chosen to accept ourselves simply for who we are as a person. I mean this is if we are paying attention long enough to notice that this “other woman” thinks she’s perfect just the way she is and she never pines to be anyone else. It simply means we are able to love our perfectly imperfect selves too. Does that make sense? Well all I know is that this one exception where my perfect twin has set a truly attainable example is to love myself even on days when I want to be somebody else…
