I am mentioning the actress, Helen Hunt, by name for two reasons. So that years from now, I will know exactly who I was talking about, and that I own up to my actions in case I ever meet her in person. So that I can’t weasel my way out of admitting my own perceptions.
It is the year 2011, and I recently saw Helen Hunt on an interview show. I haven’t seen her in years, the last time probably when she starred in the movie As Good As It Gets. Since then, she has gone through many changes in her life, including having a daughter, including time.
She doesn’t look as good as she used to, I say to myself. She doesn’t look like the Helen Hunt I remember. She looks old. She doesn’t look like she’s had any plastic surgery. Do I think she needs plastic surgery in order for me to approve of the way she looks? I ask myself. I am troubled by how I feel.
I then try to look at it this way: if she were my mother, my sister, my daughter, I would have probably seen her on a regular basis, just as I do my own mother, my female cousins, my nieces. I see them so much that after I while, I don’t notice time taking its toll on their faces and bodies. To me, my mother is my mother, and that’s that. It is what she gives to me, how she treats me, how she nurtures me, that takes up 99.9999% of my image of her. Almost the same for my cousins and nieces, probably around 99.999%. If I had a sister or a daughter, it would probably be the same thing.
If I apply this same formula to Helen Hunt, if I tried to imagine myself being her son, or brother, or father, I would probably not notice any changes with her over the years. I would probably be surprised if I heard someone talking about her looks. I would probably immediately, in my mind, think about what she has done, both good and bad, over the years, that I have been witness to because I am her son, her brother, her father. I would think about those things much much more than how she simply looks in front of a camera.
I think about what her young daughter will see as she grows up, looking at her mommy. If she’s lucky, it will be good things that have nothing to do with wrinkles.