Today, Iman Woods asked Facebook friends to tell her what makes them feel pretty. I responded with, "I'm mostly the one who makes me feel pretty." This is true, actually, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized some people would see it as some schmaltzy slogan of what we enlightened womenfolk are supposed to say, but truly don't mean. I thought maybe I should clarify.
Ever since I was a little kid, I've been fat. Not just heavy. Not just plump. Fat. Fat and later on, hella fat . . . that's the official scientific term for it you know. I was never told I was pretty. Now don't feel bad about that. It's really okay. In fact, I count myself lucky because not being told I was pretty by others allowed me to not define myself by my looks. People complimented the fact that I was an entertaining smart ass. This is where I place my value.
So while people would compliment my wit or whatever, it was left to me to tell myself I was pretty. Now for a long time, I didn't do this. I bought into the fact that being beautiful was somehow conditional on me jumping through a lot of social hoops to get there. I had to keep my hair a certain way. I had to dress a certain way. I had to wear makeup and shave and smile and look bright-eyed. I also had to be thin . . . and if I couldn't accomplish that, none of the rest of it mattered that much. I would just be a pleasingly made up smiling girl with nice hair who was fat.
The thing is though, as much as I tried to deny my beauty (due to not meeting the conditions and never having the approval of others), deep down, I never bought that I wasn't pretty. Not socially acceptable, no. Not conventionally or even unconventionally pretty, no. Still, though, when I look at my face, I love the way my lips look. I like my eyebrows, I love the cleft in my above my upper lip. I like my eyes. I love my skin tone. I like the way my coloring works, even when I decide to alter it.
Some people will read this and write me off as a vain bitch, even a delusional one. That's not the point though. Yes, I'm the one who says I'm pretty. I'm who looks at me in the mirror and smiles back. I'm the one who runs my fingers through my hair and loves the texture of it. And why would I not feel this way? Life can either be about me enjoying what I've been given and being thankful for what I have . . . or it can be about me obsessing over every flaw, every pound, and ever moment when I fail to live up to someone else' standards.
Honestly, I'd rather go through life not torturing myself. I'll just be the one to tell me I'm pretty. I'm doing everyone a favor and keeping people out of awkward situations. The people who just outright hate my fat ass are difficult, but in some ways easier than those who feel they have to say something in a positive light.
Sometimes I was told I was attractive, but always with clarification. This is when someone is telling you that you might have some good qualities, but those are in no way enough to make up for your fatness. "You're actually cute for a big girl." "You have such a pretty face." There is a possibility that when people say these things, they think they're being nice. If you're one of those people, just stop. You're not being nice. This is about as nice as randomly hitting someone with a baseball bat but putting a pink bow on the end of it. Pretty it up all you like, you still just hit me with a bat.
The people who were actually somewhat more nice were the ones who focused on one feature and ignored everything else. "You have such pretty skin." "I love the color of your eyes." I always liked these better, because I could tell the person put some effort into a way to be complimentary without making it totally awkward. It's a good policy, because just about everyone has at least one or two pleasing features. Sadly, people who gave compliments like this were rare. Trust me though, if you want to make someone's day, focus on the places where they shine and tell them about it.
If someone compliments you, it's nice. Nice, but unnecessary. This is your skin. Love it for just that fact, no matter what the skin looks like. Enjoy what you've been given, even if society is almost demanding that you don't. Why should you do this? Two things. First of all, you are worthy of love and compliments. Yes, right now. Not later when you've accomplished things and jumped those hoops. Now. This very second, you are worthy.
And secondly, being happy is always the best revenge.
Ever since I was a little kid, I've been fat. Not just heavy. Not just plump. Fat. Fat and later on, hella fat . . . that's the official scientific term for it you know. I was never told I was pretty. Now don't feel bad about that. It's really okay. In fact, I count myself lucky because not being told I was pretty by others allowed me to not define myself by my looks. People complimented the fact that I was an entertaining smart ass. This is where I place my value.
So while people would compliment my wit or whatever, it was left to me to tell myself I was pretty. Now for a long time, I didn't do this. I bought into the fact that being beautiful was somehow conditional on me jumping through a lot of social hoops to get there. I had to keep my hair a certain way. I had to dress a certain way. I had to wear makeup and shave and smile and look bright-eyed. I also had to be thin . . . and if I couldn't accomplish that, none of the rest of it mattered that much. I would just be a pleasingly made up smiling girl with nice hair who was fat.
The thing is though, as much as I tried to deny my beauty (due to not meeting the conditions and never having the approval of others), deep down, I never bought that I wasn't pretty. Not socially acceptable, no. Not conventionally or even unconventionally pretty, no. Still, though, when I look at my face, I love the way my lips look. I like my eyebrows, I love the cleft in my above my upper lip. I like my eyes. I love my skin tone. I like the way my coloring works, even when I decide to alter it.
Some people will read this and write me off as a vain bitch, even a delusional one. That's not the point though. Yes, I'm the one who says I'm pretty. I'm who looks at me in the mirror and smiles back. I'm the one who runs my fingers through my hair and loves the texture of it. And why would I not feel this way? Life can either be about me enjoying what I've been given and being thankful for what I have . . . or it can be about me obsessing over every flaw, every pound, and ever moment when I fail to live up to someone else' standards.
Honestly, I'd rather go through life not torturing myself. I'll just be the one to tell me I'm pretty. I'm doing everyone a favor and keeping people out of awkward situations. The people who just outright hate my fat ass are difficult, but in some ways easier than those who feel they have to say something in a positive light.
Sometimes I was told I was attractive, but always with clarification. This is when someone is telling you that you might have some good qualities, but those are in no way enough to make up for your fatness. "You're actually cute for a big girl." "You have such a pretty face." There is a possibility that when people say these things, they think they're being nice. If you're one of those people, just stop. You're not being nice. This is about as nice as randomly hitting someone with a baseball bat but putting a pink bow on the end of it. Pretty it up all you like, you still just hit me with a bat.
The people who were actually somewhat more nice were the ones who focused on one feature and ignored everything else. "You have such pretty skin." "I love the color of your eyes." I always liked these better, because I could tell the person put some effort into a way to be complimentary without making it totally awkward. It's a good policy, because just about everyone has at least one or two pleasing features. Sadly, people who gave compliments like this were rare. Trust me though, if you want to make someone's day, focus on the places where they shine and tell them about it.
If someone compliments you, it's nice. Nice, but unnecessary. This is your skin. Love it for just that fact, no matter what the skin looks like. Enjoy what you've been given, even if society is almost demanding that you don't. Why should you do this? Two things. First of all, you are worthy of love and compliments. Yes, right now. Not later when you've accomplished things and jumped those hoops. Now. This very second, you are worthy.
And secondly, being happy is always the best revenge.
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