It’ll never be easy for me to accept that there’s a part of me that still doesn’t like myself…still. I’m 20 years old and I’m still having issues with how I look. This can’t be good.
As a girl growing up, you were either the girl that knew she was the hottest thing walking on two legs, or you were the girl wishing you knew.
I was–you guessed it–girl number two. I grew up in predominantly white schools all of my life and every boy liked girls that weren’t my skin color. This caused me to compare myself to these girls, and notice everything they had, that I didn’t. So, you see, I was set up for failure from the very beginning, and I blame my mom for allowing me the chance at good schooling, but it carried on to college.
We currently live in a society that holds a certain image of how people should look on a pedestal. If your stomach isn’t small, while at the same time your butt isn’t big, then they make you think that you just aren’t cutting it. If your lips aren’t as full as Kylie Jenner’s, or if your skin isn’t as clear and smooth as a baby’s, you can’t be beautiful. The list goes on and on, trust me. I saw the list.
I’ve never been the type of girl that could easily let everything roll off my shoulder, but that doesn’t mean that I hope and pray one day that I am. Instead, I sit back and judge myself based off an image that I know I’m never going to look like.
My stomach is kind of pudgy. My butt is way too modest compared to other girls. My cheeks look like they are storing nuts for the winter. My hair doesn’t know if it wants to be curly or straight. Everything I eat goes straight to my face, and my confidence is almost non-existent. Almost.
There’s my honesty. I know that there are people out there that can look at me and tell me that I’m beautiful, and my mom tells me all the time. I swear. It just really sucks to know that I can hear that and it just goes in one ear and out the other
So, you see, this is something I struggle with on a daily basis. This is something that I try so very hard to get out of. I constantly think about how if I just lose weight, eat right, or if I just grow my hair out I will be satisfied with myself. I will finally like myself.
I’m waiting for that God sent moment where I come to the realization, that 1. Nothing “Freaky Friday” like is going to happen to me where I switch bodies with someone else and 2. My beauty is beautiful because it’s mine and mine only. I’m waiting for the moment where I can smile in pictures again, and be confident enough to make friends and hang out because I don’t constantly compare myself to everyone. I’m waiting for the moment when my amazing mom or incredible boyfriend can tell me I’m gorgeous and I wholeheartedly believe them.
It may sound like I’m nowhere close to that moment, but I think I’m learning & again, I’m waiting. Waiting because I have hope. Waiting because I’m certain that the moment I’m waiting for will come one day soon. I just know it will.
And this is a lesson for you as well: never let your insecurities overtake you. You mustn’t let yourself succumb to the voices in your head. Don’t listen to what society tells you.
You are beautiful. Never forget that.