Ever since I ripped the crotch of my favorite teal polyester wind pants while jump roping in fourth grade, I have been destined to do great things- and by great things, I mean ridiculously embarrassing things. Metaphorically speaking, my life is a lot like falling down the stairs. I would much rather have someone there to witness the fall and laugh at me than walk around hoping that no one saw me, looking like a complete idiot because someone did. Of course I would give an organ to be one of those girls who is impeccably sophisticated; however, due to the fact that my life seems to be an unplanned series of very unfortunate and awkward events, I have learned to take my imperfections frivolously. I have grown accustomed to embarrassing things happening in my life, so instead of sulking in my gracelessness, I have learned to simply be proud of it.
When is the last time you spent hours stalking a girl on Facebook with facial hair and a flared nostril smile because you were jealous of her painfully good looks? Never. I rest my case. This would probably explain why Pinterest boards and Tumblr accounts are chock-full of girls that are prancing along the beach in a slow motion run, glistening in the sun. Do you really want to see me walk along the beach? The last time I did that, it was my senior spring break and I twisted my ankle in a sand hole running from a seagull that proceeded to poop on my head. I would pay to see the day where an image like that pops up on Pinterest.
The reality is, beautiful on the outside in no way guarantees beautiful on the inside. Girls waste so many hours of their day wishing their imperfections away, so much to the point where they obsess over it. I spent way too many years of my life constantly searching for ways to cover up my flaws and liberate my gawkiness. It took me 20 years to finally start accepting that I am probably never going to be 120 pounds, that I have weird hairs on my toes and that my arm jiggles enough to rate on the Richter scale when I wave. I still have a list of about six million things about myself that I have animosity towards, but that’s inevitable. Every girl, even the Kate Upton looking ones on Tumblr, has at least a hundred things they loathe about themselves. Instead of constantly searching for ways to change or hide these things, girls need to learn to embrace them. Why waste your entire life attempting to fix something that isn’t meant to be fixed? You’ll get nowhere. You might as well spend the rest of your life trying to unclog a toilet at a Nascar race. Some things are just better off left alone.
Growing up, I was always the awkward one and I obviously still am; but I’m slowly but surely learning to be okay with that. Life would be so boring if every single girl could run down the beach looking like they stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Nothing spices things up like a crazed girl tearing down the beach running away from a seagull with irritable bowl syndrome, only to nearly tear a ligament in a painful plummet. If an embarrassing twinkling in time and a potential injury means I can give someone a good laugh, then so be it. I would much rather be outrageous and esteemed than be flawless and boring. The bottom line- you destroy your inner enemies when you make them your friends. Trying to change who you are only shows that you are too weak to accept your strength.
Even after that tragic day in fourth grade, I couldn’t bring myself to part with those beloved teal polyester pants. Maybe in some weird and pathetic way, my 10 year old self knew that one day those ripped and ratty pants would be scarily symbolic of my personality- a mess, but surely full of character and a good story or two to tell.