I am not pretty.
This isn't me being down on myself. I'm not saying I'm ugly or deformed or anything. I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm just not pretty.
It used to bug me. We are taught that we need to be pretty. Dye your hair, lose the weight, get the surgery. Screw that.
My worth does not lay in the way I look. It is in what I do and who I am.
I scratched my finger yesterday on a needle. When checking it to make sure it wasn't getting infected, I noticed something. I have a scar that runs paralel to it. I kept looking. I have a scar on every finger.
What does this say about me? I'm not scared to get my hands dirty. I'm a worker. I have calluses and hangnails. I also have silver nail polish on cause I'm contradictory like that.
I'm short and solid. Wide shoulders, wide hips, wide feet and a wide smile. I'm built sturdy. I won't blow over in a wind.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I had two little girls talking about me.
Sarah " Miss Kristen, why do you have so many freckles?"
Cynthia "Sarah! They aren't freckles. They're beauty marks. And since she has so many, she must be the most beautiful girl in the world."
I laughed so hard.
I figure that this saved me some pain in life. And tons of maintenance. I don't straighten and blowdry my hair everyday. I wear makeup maybe once or twice a week. I shave my legs on a monthly basis. Even when I was thin, my hips had me in a size 12.
Gracefulness was never an option, delicate is not who I am. I'm not a Princess who needs protection. I'm capable and strong and independent.
I'm good with that. People want to get to know me for my personality. Now my personality is pretty damn good. Or at least I think so. I have a lot more friends than enemies. And my close friends are some of the best people I've ever met.
Besides the truth is this. If someone really loves you, they think you're gorgeous. They see the beauty of your kisses, not the freckles on your lips. They see the flash in your eyes and not the circles underneath. They fall for your soul not your body.
This isn't me being down on myself. I'm not saying I'm ugly or deformed or anything. I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm just not pretty.
It used to bug me. We are taught that we need to be pretty. Dye your hair, lose the weight, get the surgery. Screw that.
My worth does not lay in the way I look. It is in what I do and who I am.
I scratched my finger yesterday on a needle. When checking it to make sure it wasn't getting infected, I noticed something. I have a scar that runs paralel to it. I kept looking. I have a scar on every finger.
What does this say about me? I'm not scared to get my hands dirty. I'm a worker. I have calluses and hangnails. I also have silver nail polish on cause I'm contradictory like that.
I'm short and solid. Wide shoulders, wide hips, wide feet and a wide smile. I'm built sturdy. I won't blow over in a wind.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I had two little girls talking about me.
Sarah " Miss Kristen, why do you have so many freckles?"
Cynthia "Sarah! They aren't freckles. They're beauty marks. And since she has so many, she must be the most beautiful girl in the world."
I laughed so hard.
I figure that this saved me some pain in life. And tons of maintenance. I don't straighten and blowdry my hair everyday. I wear makeup maybe once or twice a week. I shave my legs on a monthly basis. Even when I was thin, my hips had me in a size 12.
Gracefulness was never an option, delicate is not who I am. I'm not a Princess who needs protection. I'm capable and strong and independent.
I'm good with that. People want to get to know me for my personality. Now my personality is pretty damn good. Or at least I think so. I have a lot more friends than enemies. And my close friends are some of the best people I've ever met.
Besides the truth is this. If someone really loves you, they think you're gorgeous. They see the beauty of your kisses, not the freckles on your lips. They see the flash in your eyes and not the circles underneath. They fall for your soul not your body.
You look pretty ai'ight! You must, you're related to me.
ReplyDeleteBut i totally get that. you are a rugged gal. ..also the related to me applies here. :)
I missed this when it came out. I'm glad I noticed it now. It's beautiful--lovely words and intriguing thoughts.
ReplyDeleteThanks! Coming from a published author, I'm blushing over here!
Delete