Monday, May 24, 2010

Pink Eye and Pride

Steven Staurt: Pride is a powerful narcotic, but it doesn't do much for the auto-immune system.


Recently, I developed pink eye. It is a horrid sickness that takes over one's eye and makes it look like Rocky Balboa after an almost fatal punch from Apollo Creed. Over the course of this pink eye tragedy, I began to question why it is that I hate pink eye so much. Now, of course no one would desire to have pink eye, but I have a loathing for it that goes beyond most people's hate for this irksome thing. For instance, I would much rather be legitimately sick than have a small thing like pink eye. I would rather be (sorry if this is graphic) puking in a trashcan, have a fever over 100, and possess the nausea equivalent to a pregnant lady than have this pink stuff on my eye. This is probably not normal, and when I run into things about myself or the universe that aren't "normal," I investigate.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that pink eye is my least favorite sickness because of how others perceive it. You see, if one has the flu or something like it, people naturally feel bad for that person, bring them soup and a cold clothe for their head, prepare their bed, etc. If someone has pink eye however, others will shun this person. For example, on Friday I was walking around Conrad and Hinkle ( a local grocery store), and I saw a small child. The mother of this kid looks at my infected eye (though I promise at this point I was no longer contagious), grabs the child by the arm, and yanks her to the front counter--far away from the evil eye that could infect her precious little one. Now, I understand that this mother did not know I wasn't contagious, that I did look rather disgusting at the time, and that this example is extreme; however, I give this example to make a point.

When one has pink eye, others see the sickness within--one is the judged. I would rather be internally sick and no one visually perceive my ugly sickness than be externally sick. Most of humankind is like this. This is why we, as a human race, put degrees on sin. If we visually see a drug addict who is snorting, has dark circles under his eyes, and gets jittery when he needs a fix, we judge him more than we would someone who struggles with say...pride. There is something wrong with this.

I realize that, most of the time, I benefit from this skewed understanding. I struggle with pride, being a control freak, guilt, and with judging others. These things are awful, but does anyone condemn my sin one a daily basis?
No, of course not. Number one, my sin is mostly internal and thus can be, to some degree, hidden from the outside world. Number two, to the outside world, my sin does not matter as much because it is more visually appeasing than other's sins. My sin is like the flu. It has consequences, but others do not visually see the full weight of these consequences. They don't see the bulging pink eye of a drug addict or a thief. My sin is socially acceptable, and I like this. Having socially acceptable sin feeds my pride even more.

Having pink eye has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my summer. When one has pink eye, others see the sickness. When one has pink eye, one cannot create a flawless outer self. Not only does one look incredibly awful when pink eye is developed, one also can't cover the grotesque stuff up. I couldn't put make up on when I had pink eye. Mascara, eye liner, and eye shadow would only make the disease worse; therefore, they were not to touch my eye. I also had to wear my glasses. Put contacts in when one has pink eye and you're just asking for it to spread!

Having pink eye made me realize just how much I care about others perceive me. I couldn't stand not putting make up on and wearing my glasses day in and day out. I couldn't stand others seeing my disease. This is also the case on a non-literal level. I really hate it when others see my inner problems, and most of the time I paint myself as the have-it-all-together girl who can deal with anything that comes her way so that people won't visually see my inner weaknesses. For years, I have felt pain when guys reject me and pretend all is well, struggled with confidence and walked like a super model, and have helped others with problems while struggling with the same stuff myself (and not making this known). We all do this on some level.

When I had pink eye, it sounds funny, but I actually became more open. Because I was already externally vulnerable, I shared my sin more. I became more approachable. This past year, I became angry when a guy friend of mine told me that most of the time no men asked me out (even if they like me) because I am intimidating, because I seem to have it all all together, have no human needs, and be too good for them anyway. He was right. I am like a hermit crab who though at first glance is open, inviting, and friendly, on further investigation...is not. I crawl into perfect shells that scream "I don't need you" when in reality I am a small crustacean that is vulnerable and just as broken as everyone else.

I have learned that it is time to remove our outer shells of perfection. It is time for us to share our inner struggles. It is time to stop judging those who are more open about their sins and do this ourselves. It is time to chuck our pride out the window. It is time to trade mascara, eye-liner, and contacts for glasses and natural flesh that show others we are imperfect creations striving just like them...people of God who are not judgemental, unapproachable, and flawless but are instead--Striving. Longing. Struggling. Open. Inviting. And completely ready to work on their shit.

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