Jaci Dawn

I had a lovely encounter with someone the other day that reminded me of People I Can Live Without.

She’s a bit of a Type A personality, and rather ADHD. On the surface, I rather like her: she has a lot of energy that I don’t have, and she’s very up-beat. I like upbeat people, and I don’t mind energetic people. But along came the conversation about retirement… and I divulged my plan to create a niche for myself in art and sell my artwork as a retirement plan.

She had the canned response we all know by now: “Oh, so-and-so did that! They always dreamed of selling their art, so when they retired…” And then she added the caveat: “But they’re high-end.”

You know. They are high-end. YOU are not, implied. Sight unseen. Judged on my current laid-back office position in a small office.

I really have no desire to *be* “high end”. I like laid-back, Bohemian, hippie, different. I have a very successful friend who does sell “high end” art work. I have another friend who successfully teaches and sells in galleries. Another who works with beads and does what I would consider excellent to high end jewelry. I’m immersed in art. What *I* want to do is create a niche that pays the bills, makes people happy, and satisfies my need to create.

What I do not want is to be classified as “not” something or other, especially if you have never seen my artwork. Thank you very much. After you see it, you can judge. I’m cool with that. Because it isn’t “high end”.

I can live without people like that and as soon as she was out of my presence I rolled my eyes and flipped her off. Because I don’t need her approval.

People who manipulate you by subtle criticism are people you can delete from your friend list. You may still have to interact with them, but you don’t have to like them or take their words to heart.

That woman who criticizes your bra size? She has a problem, not you. (In my case, I’m rather flat chested. The “she” I refer to criticized the fact that I had done nothing to “improve” upon that. Read: implants or padded bras. It could go the other way, however.) Really? Really??? My husband married me, knowing I’m flat-chested, and I bore him two children. If it doesn’t bother him, why should I care???

She made a few other “suggestions” about my dress, my hair style, and so on. I don’t need her approval. She’s also a Type A personality, very driven to “succeed”, have lots of money and “nice” things, and so on. She uses massive amounts of make-up to cover her facial flaws.

Me, I have puffy moles and facial hair, and expressions that Ruth Buzzi and Lily Tomlin would love. If I was an actress, I’d be a character actress with a specific genre to appeal to. I don’t need to be perfect. I just need to be me.

Then there was my orthodontist. My last visit in her office, after I got my braces removed, was a high-pitched sales offer to bleach my teeth. I drink coffee, so my teeth tend to the yellow. I brush and floss and take care of my teeth – that’s not an issue. The braces were to fix a problem that was affecting my health, not to fix a smile. I rather liked my (old) crooked teeth, but they were affecting my overall health, and so I capitulated to braces late in life.

So – the whole “bleach your teeth” sales pitch came on and I calmly said, “NO.”

But “why not?”

“Because I am in my fifties, married, not in the dating pool, and I AM HAPPY WITH MY APPEARANCE.” You can bleach my teeth to hell and back and I am still going to have my father’s face, thinning hair, moles, and old skin.

I’ve never been back to that orthodontist. I don’t need her approval.

I have a pretty good ego. I have a great self-image. I intend to build on the Bohemian side of me as I retire. I don’t need anyone’s approval.

Just so you all know.

Oh. And here’s a sketch I did today that needs some work, but… I DO need your approval on. Gomer Camel.

He has my teeth before I got braces on… And, yes, I know I need to get rid of the tree in the background.

Have a great day.