Accidental Ambivalence

Ugly

The way that women go through their lives intrigues me. When we're young, we're constantly told how cute or pretty we are. And, because we are egocentric and gullible and beautifully innocent, we believe. Little girls believe that they could be princesses, beauty queens, cheerleaders, presidents - and that they are the most beautiful little girl in the world.

Adolescence brings the insecurity, the scrutiny, the self-loathing. We are constantly judging ourselves and others and are conditioned to believe what we're told about our looks; at this point, however, we're being told all of the negative things. Too chubby, too skinny, too tall, too short, too awkward. Of course, there's always the dreaded simplicity of the word "ugly." We're all snarky and bitchy and cruel to one another, unfairly and stupidly. We're so conscious of the standard of beauty that we cannot look past that and see ourselves clearly.

At twenty-two, I have certainly been through it. I have felt like I was beautiful and perfect; I have felt like I was heinous and would never be good enough. I've grown as a person, and, to a certain extent, I feel that I've grown into my looks. I can see my reflection and manage to look past the negative things - and believe me, there are negative things out the wazoo - to see the things about me that are beautiful. I love my eyelashes, the shade of blue my eyes are when I wear black, my cheekbones, the way my bangs fall across my forehead, my collarbones, the tattoo behind my ear, my earlobes, my wrists, the tops of my feet. Odd things, but things that are particular to me and the things that I've found to focus on instead of the flaws. While there are certainly things that I would change - things that I plan to change - I'm relatively comfortable in my own pale, imperfect skin.

And still, despite all of the personal strides that I've made and my opinions on the relationship between self-image and growing up female, there are a few things that sting. That word: ugly. "She's ugly," he said, and I knew that he was a drunken son-of-a-bitch who was trying to hurt my feelings and whose opinion didn't matter. It still doesn't matter, because I'm not so fragile as to let one person destroy the self-esteem that I've worked so hard to build. And while I'm fine with it intellectually, there's still the visceral reaction and the capability to accept and internalize the words.

Forget that. I am not hot, I am not beautiful, I am not anything special, and I am not ugly. I'll be damned if I'm going to let some worthless, random boy make me feel like anything less than I am.

Labels: everyday musings, girl stuff

posted by nicalyse @ 2:22 AM