I guess I should tell you WHY I've always been so insecure... For every person that has called me beautiful, there are two more people telling me different. Negative things are so much easier to believe; ever noticed that? When complimented, I protest and deny. When put down, I hang my head and am struck silent by my acceptance, because it's probably something I've already thought before anyway. Put downs are so easy to swallow; they melt like sugar in the mouth. My mother has always told me that people put me down because they are jealous; they disdain me and isolate me because they wish to be like me, and so separate themselves from me because they can't be like me. I can't say I'll ever believe that. I'm not a jealous person; in the rare times I've felt envy, it was an emotion hard to name because each time it's new, a hard rock in my chest that takes me awhile to identify.
There are things that make me beautiful. Although as of late, I have avoided makeup, even though I've always fancied myself a sort of cosmetic novice and have always expressed myself through the paints on my face; still, a brush of bronzer (I miss you, o summer tan) and a touch of mascara prepares my face for the judgement people will pass on me. That bronzer and mascara is my war paint. I soothe myself with the fact that even though my face can sometimes be too dry or oily or that I'm breaking out that at some point, tomorrow is a different day and everyday that I work on my skin is a day that it will be better. Everyday I survey my naked body with distaste I comfort myself knowing that working out six days a week, drinking water, and limiting my calories (for life) will eventually chisel me into the femme fatale that I want to be. And of course, each time that I look at my newly clipped curls growing awkwardly into some weird yield sign shaped monstrosity, I remind myself that my hair grows 1/2 an inch a month, time passes quickly, and in a year it will be half a foot longer than it is right now.
See, I'm a work in progress... My body, my face, my hair, my mind. If anyone has anything negative to say, then their words deflect off of me, simply because everything about me is constantly getting better, and aging like wine. If you hate something about yourself, give your haters (including yourself) the bird, awaken that sexuality per this post, and work on changing what you hate. Hate your dishwater blond hair? The fact that you suck at long division (hey I don't know...)? Maybe you hate how your thighs jiggle. Come up with some sort of idea after getting to the root of your insecurities, and fight to change them. Give yourself time and you will be on the path to getting better and better... And if you need some advice, or a little push, you know who to call ;)
