When you grow up you realize how everyone always told you that you were pretty. It didn't really mean anything to you nor did those words stand out, it was just something people said. Pretty was not a concept that appealed to you or even pertained to you as a person. It wasn't anything you observed while looking into the mirror. You were just you.
As you get older it still doesn't process in your head. Everyone tells you how pretty you are, but they might have been talking about the weather for all you know.
You develop further, into those awkward teens and become so shy. Everyone tells you you're pretty but you can't even look a person in the eye while you speak with them. And the boys you like never seem to like you back, but you never blame your looks because it's not something you really notice.
People suddenly tell you that they always admired you and no matter how invisible you try to be they always tell you that they wished they looked like you, or they wished they were friends with you. Your photos receive nothing but admirable feedback. You know what angles of yourself you like and how to accentuate them. You know your strong features, you know what people might find attractive and you go with the flow and people's admiration towards you never lessens. It's strange to you that people still somehow know you exist even if you stay hidden in the corner of the room. People mention your name in conversations. They have opinions of you. And it's kind of scary to think in a way…
You get scared when men hit on you in public and you try to avoid ever being alone outdoors. Even when you're not, someone will always find a way and for some reason it's the most horrifying feeling in the world.
After you get your first boyfriend you never stay single after that. Not even once. You flow from one love into the other in hopes they will actually treat you right and won't break your heart. Because underneath the pretty they find the real you. Raw and dysfunctional. With your insecurities and instability. Suddenly the face that everyone craves becomes a familiar mound of flesh. They get used to you and it's no big deal if they hurt you. And you hurt them back because if you won't stand up for yourself no one else will. It makes you wonder what's the point of being pretty?
Eventually you find someone you admire. Someone so physically beautiful you feel that if you looked like them you would have no problems. That no one would ever want to hurt you if only you looked like that.
That's kind of fucked up isn't it?
That the thought of changing your appearance makes you feel like you suddenly will become a better person.
You wonder if you give off that air too? You wonder if someone looks at you and feels that way about you.
"If i was her i'd have my shit together. I would be alright."
In the end nothing really changes.
And the story really has no conclusion.
After all. These are just my unpolished thoughts.
(Tumblr Post:
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And wow, I still hate that year.
It's one thing to have my mom tell my sister to not look like me and my dad to scream in my face and hit me, and another to go to school where everyone stared and giggled and judged. I had so many issues its crazy. I plucked my eyelashes, rubbed off my eyebrows, scratched up the pimples on my face and back, cried literally everyday, developed weird addictions and rashes from stress.... my old friends would stare at me like I was a freak. I remember standing at my bus stop, with a bunch of other "friends" and my mom (because I was lame like that), and they always hung out in a little circle while my dumb ass would stay with my mom far away from them. She told me that I barely spoke the entire year, but I don't really know if that's true.
But I guess to tell the truth, I mainly hate myself from that year.
And then in 8th grade I met so many wonderful friends, changed my appearance, avoided my dad, faced the "incident" with my cousins, got good grades, and had a hilariously awesome year. That's definitely my best year ever. Also when I got my first compliment in a long time in that year. Just a woman working at a store, Jungle Jims, looked at me and said to my mom "you have beautiful children." and I swear I almost cried.
I guess I actually developed a sense of "self" during that year? I no longer felt the intense hatred towards myself, the need to critique the way I walked or the expressions on my face or the volume of my voice.
I'm kind of disappointed now, how much beauty means to everyone (and me) and how it helped ruined 3 years of my life that were already crappy.
I was just browsing around and ended up here.
Being so unique and sought after has its consequence of feeling you don't get to match with many places or people.
One ends up standing out so much that they don't get to feel harmonious in a group or even with a significant other.
I mean maybe it might be there with a special friend but then when coupled with self-questioning, "So...do they like me because of simple me or because I'm popular/ I make them laugh/everyone says I'm so confident...admirable...beautiful....funny...what about who I am not as an adjective."
It is kinda scary having personality/looks and your ways end up gaining a fleshed out life and reputation of it's own. Lately I have to use my real name to have a chance to run away for 5 minutes from all the people I know and those that I don't know but somehow know Maki-me anyway.
It's like being a porcelain figure in a snowglobe sometimes.
I guess I can say being a little older that yeah, you kinda get over it and just accept that you're in a leadership position so sometimes you have to rule all day with your guard up instead of letting your inner-child run free. If you take care to mark the boundaries of what you know you want and accept that your guilt is actually just social-pressured-bullshit, you get over it and have confidence that you make good decisions no matter what.
People try to give a compliment that ends up a hindrance because it might feel one didn't exactly 'work' or earn the aesthetics of being a pretty person, and everyone is making a big deal and inside sometimes thoughts can to twist to the direction of feeling almost like a fake cuz eventhough it's you...it's not developed you so in a way it's not the you that you chose and that's the ugly part. Tried to hide myself, got anti-social, came back, felt right, felt weird, hid again, returned, etc.
The one thing I learned, the people that really care for you, they still think your pretty but don't need you to be.
Otherwise you pick an intuitive sense for the level of people that exist and navigate around that.
And don't smile at certain dude-strangers, even politely in a store, they will always think that means you think they are pretty too. And possibly want to have beautiful babies.
This went in a totally different direction.
Anyway, pretty brave writing.
Interesting and provoking.
Cool thoughts even though they hurt.
I didn't mean to ramble, I just wanted to let you know that... even if you weren't a gorgeous person on the outside, you'd still have a heart of gold, and I think that's absolutely wonderful. And to know that someone I've admired for a long time, someone on the other end of the spectrum, felt just as scared and confused growing up... it shows me deep down people work the same and we should look at that inner likeness instead of focusing on the differences in plain sight. Thanks for some moving stuff Kero, I'm pretty sure that was the corniest thing I've ever written. Imma go cry in the corner now lol
People have flaws inside and out and when you see someone beautiful you really do feel like their life is set. When in reality everyone is hurt and alone. Some strive for physical perfection to make their life better and it's a frustrating task... we all tend to forget to better our minds first. Because even though people judge us based on our looks, the ones who will continue to love us are the ones who know our heart. No matter how pretty a girl can be if she's rotten the love of her life may leave her for just that reason.
I was never told I was pretty growing up, nor was I ever really supported by anyone in my life. They didn't actively put me down, but I wasn't encouraged to do anything.
When I was young I made attempts to stand out, since I never seemed to get attention from anyone in my life, but then I noticed when you stand out, people will talk about you or make fun of you. So I stopped.
That worked too well; since I was plain I easily blended into the background which stopped people from talking about me or noticing me at all. This was my goal. But I was so alone. It seemed easier to get used to than to put my faith in other people, so I slowly became accustomed to it and since then I haven't been able to go back. I'm still afraid of drawing attention to myself, I slink into the background even when I want to talk to people, and I stifle myself so much I don't even know who I am.
I'm flawed and I don't even have a pretty face to make up for it. Nobody can get past my looks to the real me because I don't know the real me.