Tag Archives: Self-esteem

Be Yourself-Everyone Else Is Taken


Do you like your name?

I’m not wild about mine. Didn’t like it at all when I was a kid. I’ve grown into it a bit. I do like that Barbara has lots of nicknames, and I’ve always admired Beaver’s mother, Barbara Billingsly. I think June Cleaver has lots more chutzpa then the world gives her credit for.

Barbara Billingsley

Sometimes, when I sign my name during a credit card transaction, I say to myself. “Slow down. Write your name with happiness and confidence. Be pleased and grateful for who you are.” So I write slowly:

Except that it doesn’t look as nice as that font because my handwriting isn’t great. In fact, I’m not happy with my handwriting.

Or my singing voice.

Or my dinner entrees (I’m better on side dishes).

Or my fingernails.

This takes us to the topic of self-esteem. They say menopause brings confidence once you get through the thick of it. I do find as I get older, my self-esteem is improving. And I’ve learned it’s okay to have lots of shortfalls.

Someone once asked my dad what his talents were. He answered, “I’m really good at edging flower gardens.”

I like that!

I can make a teddy bear talk like he’s the most fascinating bear in the world, and I know the names of all the state capitols.

Maybe that’s enough.

I snapped this photo in a funky coffee shop in Kentucky:



And check out this article on the Positivity Blog:  Tips on self-esteem.  

What about you? Are you happier with yourself than you were twenty years ago?

And do you like your name?

Top Photo:  I saw this sign in a Cinque Terre village on our trip to Italy. No clue what type of business it is.

Bottom Photo: I found this name bracelet among the treasures I saved when my daughter Laura was born. I wonder if hospitals nowadays give mothers such pretty bracelets.

Mirror, Mirror! Louise Hawes on Writing and Aging, Plus a Free Novel Giveaway


Black Pearls

A post by writer Louise Hawes:

When you’re a working writer/teacher, you have more occasion than some to mark the passage of time—in your own face!

With each new book launch , conference gig, or writing workshop I commit to, there is always the request for a bio and “recent photo.” Ackkkk!

While I sometimes wish I could send out an airbrushed, retouched, ageless portrait, if I did it’s unlikely anyone at the event to follow would recognize me!

Botox? I’ll pass.

Face lift and tummy tucks? My body and I came to a mutual agreement years ago: we’re in this for the duration, and we’re in it together.

Hair color? Now that menopause has ended regular visits from my “friend,” I’ve decided to spare myself that other monthly pain as well. If I never inhale peroxide again, or wrestle with plastic gloves, or wonder if I put in so much toner my hair will turn purple, well, as the ad says, I’m worth it!

Snow White’s evil stepmother worried a lot about her image.

But it seems to me, her mistake wasn’t putting in all that mirror time; it was the way she looked at herself.

For Queenie, it was all about comparisons: who’s the fairest?

In other words, how do I stack up against my younger self, my daughter, the models in magazines, other women my age, how I looked yesterday, the women I pass on the street?

If you play that game, you’re bound to lose.

But what if looking in the mirror was a win-win?

What if each time you checked your reflection, you laughed out loud? Or cheered? Or clapped? Or cried.

That’s what I do, and it’s not because I’m early onset, either. Thanks to my sister, who’s a painter and teacher, I’m learning to come to the image in my mirror with fresh eyes and an open heart:

When her students start critiquing their work instead of responding to it, Helen asks her students to take a fresh look, to study it as if they’re seeing it for the first time.

“Close your eyes,” she tells them, “scrunch them tight, then open them and see your whole painting at once. Don’t focus on just one part, and don’t worry if some detail is right or wrong. Listen, instead, to what this brand new experience is telling you.”

That’s how I try to look in the mirror now—with my eyes, not my head.

I don’t zero in on the fact that one side of my mouth turns down further than the other, or on that tiny age spot shaped like Bolivia on my right cheek.

Each morning, I introduce myself to me, the me who’s here NOW, not in the past or the future.

I don’t fault find or take out my mental airbrush.

Instead, I smile and say hello. When we look at each other with that unconditional friendliness, my reflection and I?

Mostly, we like what we see.

And hey, if not, there’s always the sign I’ve taped to the glass: “At least, I still have my teeth!”

*  *  *

Speaking of Snow White (writers are sooo good at segues, aren’t we?!), I hope the winner of this book drawing enjoys dark fairy tales.

Black Pearls features all the old favorites, told from angles you’d never dream of!

Booklist called it, “Twisted, clever, and artfully written.” Named to the Hall of Fame of teenreadstoo.com and chosen as a Best Book of the Year by the Austin-American Statesman, this collection was written for both adult and YA readers.

You can watch the trailer here:


Giveaway! To enter the giveaway for a copy of Black Pearls, post a comment by May 6 saying you’d like to win. Winner will be chosen at random.


Louise Hawes is a founding faculty member of the MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults program at Vermont College. Her short fictionhas appeared in anthologies and journals in the US and Canada, and is collected in Anteaters Don’t Dream, and Black Pearls, a Faerie Strand. Her novels for young adults include Rosey in the Present Tense, Waiting for Christopher and The Vanishing Point.

Louise has a grown son and daughter, as well as four grandchildren (not yet grown, but shooting up fast!) She lives in North Carolina and travels frequently, often to give Four Sisters Playshops with Helen (mentioned above) and her three other sisters. These creative retreats explore film, music, writing, and painting, and have been held all over the world.

For more information on the Sisters retreats and a look at Louise’s books and lectures on writing, please visit www.louisehawes.com.

Photo of Louise:  The un-retouched, all-natural photo above was taken by writer and photographer Mamie Potter.

The Cover of Black Pearls was created by Rebecca Guay.