All i know of beauty and ulgyness

my experiances with learning to love my self

All I know of beauty and ugliness I learned from my family. At times their opinions were confusing. They were all extremely judgmental and had different definitions of what beauty and ugliness truly were. Though young I knew that no matter what, I would never be considered beautiful to them.

My grandmother was the first person to “hint” that there was something wrong with me. I was six at the time and was no more concerned with beauty than a child would be about the news. I was always bigger then all my cousins and naturally didn’t notice the difference until my grandmother took it upon herself to pointedly humiliate me in front of my family. That day I cried for the very first time about my appearance. She has always made it very clear that a beautiful person is pettily slender with long thick hair. She would often tell me, “I see no reason for you to be this way, when your mother was younger…” and then go on to tell me how much my mother’s appearance as a child had pleased her.  My self worth became non-existent. I was constantly put down, and forced to accept the harsh words of the people closest to me.

My adolescence became consumed with “nothing ever looks right on you,” “you’d be a cute girl if you lost some weight,” and “could you just lose some weight before I die, cause that’s all I want from you.” Those words broke me. I knew I would never be that thin girl everyone expected me to be. I knew I’d never be beautiful. All I am and all I have is ugliness.

 Because of medical problems and eczema my skin will never be smooth and free of scars. The former, makes it nearly impossible for me to grow back the once thick hair that inhabited my scalp. I am uncomfortable in my own skin and it has caused me to hide behind sweaters, jeans and baggy t-shirts. What is ugliest about me is the fact that I let my opinion of myself be based on what others see as beautiful.

Junior high was another place that taught me about beauty and ugliness. There, for the first time in a long time, I found that I was not alone. I saw that there were people just like me, scared to be noticed and pointedly exposed because of their flaws. Also, there were people just like my family. Ready at a moments notice to pick on and humiliate those that did not have the self esteem to stand up for themselves. Unfortunately I was targeted once again and picked on constantly because of how I dressed, spoke, and looked. Those moments in time were defining ones.

 It was then that I realized that the uglier person, was the one who tormented. I began to think, “this girl must feel really bad about how she looks to point out, constantly, everything that’s wrong with me.” As I took a closer look at her, I found flaws in her appearance just as she had in mine. She was a medium height girl who looked like she was borderline anorexic/bulimic. She had circles under her eyes as if she had not slept since the moment she escaped her mother’s womb. Her nose was what some would call a beak. The difference between her and me was I was civil enough not to point these things out.

I started to notice how the media affected the way we see ourselves. Everyone had something they wanted to fix, create, or get rid of. Sometimes all three. My sister once said she wanted a tummy tuck. When I asked her why she responded, “Because I’m to fat.” My sister, the same sister that had told me numerous times it would be better if I lost a few pounds, thought she was fat? She’s skinnier then me! Then it hit me. With all the anti-wrinkle creams, lotions, hair dye, fake eyelashes and plastic surgeries out there, how could anyone want to be anything but perfect?  It was attainable now… right? Wrong. What was attainable however, was a hatred for yourself, so deep, that nothing about you was good enough anymore. Everything had to go, no matter what the cost. That is hideous.  From that logic, I began to develop my own interpretation of beauty.

Beautiful are all the shades of skin, and variety of noses there are. Beautiful is the ink you use to design the body you claim. Beautiful are the scars that highlight our perseverance. Beautiful is having the confidence not to put anyone down.  Beautiful is all the different types of breast, hips, thighs, and butts there are. Beautiful is the way women’s hips sway when they walk. Beautiful is the strong arms of a man and the warmth of his eyes. Beautiful is full soft lips that need no help to smile. Beautiful is holding your head high as you make your way down the street. Beauty is the union of two bodies coming together to make a third. Beauty is knowing “difference” is beautiful.

Ugly is the way my family treated me. Cruelly and without regard for the child they were so easily passing judgment on. Ugly is the women that try so hard to fit into someone’s idea of beauty that they are willing to le t their bodies away waste. Ugly are the people who erase the pain of feeling ugly by eating until their heart stops. Ugly are the people who take enjoyment from hurting others. Ugly is the fact that we are subconsciously telling young girls they will never be good enough, they will never be pretty enough, instead of reassuring them that they are. Ugly is the fact that our society holds beauty above education when the latter is the one that lasts. Ugly is the men that are convinced they will never get anywhere in life unless they acquire the title of “alpha male.” Ugly are the “standards” each sex puts in place for the opposite one.  Ugly is the media who never fails to tell us what is wrong with our bodies.

 Above all true ugliness is the hypocrisy you feel when you hold your niece and tell her to love herself, always, knowing that you do not.

Author's Note

it was extermely hard to get over this stage in my life,and in truth i havent fully excepted myself but im learning to.