Ladies, we all know that the pressures of society are a considerable weight to bear. Day after day, we get advertisements and marketing ploys shoved in our faces demanding that we look younger, thinner, more done-up than can ever be achieved naturally. If you don’t look good enough, someone is bound to tell you. But careful! If you look too good, it’s bound to be used against you. A zero-sum game played by wannabe winners.
And fellas, you’re not entirely immune either. The media constantly portrays what a “real” man should look like, what he should do, what beverages he should drink (hint: they say it’s beer and only beer). Society maintains that all men should have the washboard abs or swooping hair. They say all men should wear fine suits or rugged jeans – no in-between.
It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Yet we find ourselves falling for these traps, not just in how we judge ourselves but how we perceive others. Ugh, human nature… it sucks.
Here’s the worst part of it all – at the very end, the last stop on the train, the final exit off the road of life, there’s still pressure from society. You would think that we get some reprieve in our last moments above ground. You would think that our own funerals, the celebrations and memorials of our lives, would be the place where societal norms would be laid to rest for a brief moment (see what I did there?).
We can’t let our guard down for a minute; death be damned. We need to keep up appearances. We have to make sure we look peaceful and angelic and gorgeous for our grieving loved ones to admire. Otherwise, we are exposed to the dreaded commentary of those in attendance, while we are powerless to change anything.
I can’t be the only one. I’m sure you’ve heard this narrative at funerals too.
“Oh, doesn’t her makeup look lovely!”
“Look what a good job they did on her hair!”
“My, what wonders they did with his face.”
Umm, excuse me… what?
What’s worse, there’s a flip side to that coin.
“Ooh, you can barely recognize him. How terrible.”
“She would have never done her makeup that heavily, this simply doesn’t do her justice.”
“Oh dear, she would have never been caught dead in that dress…”
Honestly, people! Can we not show a little respect by holding thoughts in our mind instead of speaking them out loud? It is possible to do, you know. No, really, it is.
We all grieve in our own unique ways, but this kind of grieving can be done on your own time. The funeral service is not the time to discuss the shade of lipstick chosen or the volume of their hair. They can’t even defend the choices themselves, for Pete’s sake.
Sure, the positive comments are often made to comfort the grieving family and bring some kind words to the fore. And I get it; it’s hard to know exactly what to say to the family or even to the others in attendance. Funeral homes don’t exactly spark the best conversations. But check your “thought filters” before you leave the house, so you don’t end up saying something to make things more morbid than they already are.
I seriously want to know, though: just how good are people supposed to look at their own funerals? Why is there a standard? Have we asked ourselves why we care so much about people’s appearance while their eternal soul is laid to rest? It seems there would be more pressing matters to consider. If ever there was a time in someone’s life, this definitely seems like the time to not be worried about hair, clothing, or overall appearance.
Alas, societal pressure is destined to weigh heavy on our shoulders – right up to the bitter end.
Yeah, I agree, societal pressure sucks! ❤❤
“I seriously want to know, though: just how good are people supposed to look at their own funerals?”
This is a question I never even considered.
I have enough challenges with how I look while alive.
You just convinced me. I am going ashes to ashes, dust to dust, with no makeup and no funeral.
My Dad said, when they had to go and view his Dad’s body. Crept him right out, they had his father smiling. My Poppa was an aggressive angry man, he NEVER smiled.
Your screed fully supports my decision to be cremated, and no picture (unless one chosen by me well in advance) shown at the memorial service. Pay respects to the essence of who I was and how I affected you, not the outer shell which is meaningless.
The whole thing is outrageous. I just want someone to light the fire.
Cremation… hard to criticize the color or thickness of ashes.
My Parents were both cremated, as was my older Brother. I want to be as well, and I put that in my will.
This whole funeral industry thing feels like an antiquated, macabre relic from our darker past, at least to me. Not to mention expensive, and I mean VERY expensive. To each their own of course, but for me, “Come on Baby Light my Pyre…”