How to be Beautiful?

Imperfections can be beautiful too.

I hate my body.
I hate my teeth.
I hate my legs.
I hate my voice.
I hate my blurry eyes.
I hate the way I talk.
I hate the way I look.

We all have insecurities. Even the most beautiful, talented, successful person has at least one or more. I have my own share of insecurities too. Thinking about it, makes me teary-eyed that I hate being alone with my own head sometimes. It reminds me of how ugly I see myself.

https://www.pinterest.ph/pin

I hate my body. Ever since high school, I have always been insecure with my body. I had always been thin until now. Luckily, girls’ uniforms had long sleeves. I hated my arms exposed because I was too conscious. Whenever my batch mates rolled up their sleeves, I felt envious. They looked so cool, I thought. But if I did that, would’ve looked very lanky. So I never dared to roll them up. Every wash day, we had to wear the assigned shirt and I didn’t like it because that meant exposing my arms. Funny story, when I bought my PE uniform, I chose the medium size because I thought I was gonna gain weight by high school, which I didn’t. I ended up looking like a hanger with dry clothes on for four years.

Graduation Day/Last picture with my classroom haha

When I got to college, I felt uneasy with the short sleeved uniform, but thank God we got pants. Which meant, I didn’t have to expose my chicken legs. Some of my classmates/friends would always call me out for being thin and that I should fatten up because they all thought I didn’t eat much. But if they only knew. However, it got kinda better. I didn’t mind that much anymore since my friends never made me feel like I look bad in my body. People didn’t care much back in college. But it never helped me to appreciate the way I look. I felt too ugly even in high school. I never even knew that I had a long nose if it wasn’t for a friend who told me, “hey you really have a long nose, I never knew till I had to look at you on your side.” And I was insistent that it wasn’t because all my life, I thought I had a flat nose. My uncle always called me a flat nose haha, which was true. 

Junior year (2013)-Experimental Psych

When I graduated, I thought I wouldn’t feel too ugly anymore or I would be caring less. But actually it didn’t. There was this guy whom I met in my first job and he is handsome. No exaggeration.  When he confessed to me, I felt overwhelmed, but ugly. ‘Coz if we really had dated back then, it would probably feel like I would be scrutinized and walking behind him because I thought he was too handsome for me. And I looked too ordinary beside him. Even when my previous colleagues would tell me I was beautiful, I just couldn’t see it in myself.

When I worked at a university, it got worse. Especially when I was going through depression, at the same time, a lot of people would call out on me for being so thin, that didn’t exempt some students either. It didn’t stop there. I was judged for my massive appetite, I mean I knew I should’ve taken that as a compliment for eating without getting fat, right? But the way some said it, I felt so judged. It was offensive for me. I usually ordered 1 and a half or 2 cups of rice, depends on how hungry I was. I ate too much during lunch break because it was a way to replenish my energy for the rest of the day. Some would be amazed hearing it from a lanky individual, as if I was some specie from another planet. There was one colleague who even exclaimed as I was ordering 2 cups of rice with a loud voice, “Den that’s too much!” But I would joke,” please don’t judge, rice makes me happy.”

One of the breakfasts I had at the University

However, some of them really didn’t sound nice. All the more making me conscious of my body, feeling uglier every time I think about it. They thought I don’t eat much and that I should eat more. That I looked sickly. I was malnourished. And it felt so insulting, I felt so bad as if I needed to explain every single time that I was naturally thin and it runs in our family. It got me to a point where a friend told me I should have myself checked up ‘coz I might be sick. And boy did that get me. I even told my mother I need to get myself checked but she just told me, “are you crazy? That’s exactly how I looked like when I was your age!”

There was once, a colleague, who outright told me, “I don’t find you beautiful.” Until now, it rings like an echo in my head. And I feel like crying just writing this. I felt so attacked, that instead of showing how upset I was, I just rebutted. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember how I felt. I know people are entitled to their own opinions, but I just think they should know when to keep their mouth shut and their opinions to themselves. I won’t lie, I judged people too, but I really do my best to find the best in them because I didn’t wanna be judged either. I know how it feels and its really upsetting. I didn’t feel beautiful enough already, I didn’t have to be told that I wasn’t. ‘Coz I already knew I’m not. It was as if my thoughts were validated by that remark.

Hmm they look quite alike, don't you think?

It’s ironic, because my mother is beautiful, I am a spitting image of my mother, but I don’t find myself beautiful. For those who “know” me, they would rather see me narcissistic, confident. But those who “really know me,” they knew I have this bunch of insecurities I try to overcome until now. They know how ugly I see myself, how I could never be beautiful to anyone. 

I hate how I look like. I hate my crooked teeth, my lanky body, my flat chest, my not so loud voice, my boyish garb, my ears that stick out, my blurry eyes…I hate me.

Year 2020, I’ve only started picking myself up in the midst of the world’s crisis. I tried looking at myself more in the inside. I remembered the good things my friends would tell me.

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

Waking up after a night of crying on ATBP

“Your teeth are cute, putting on braces won’t be YOU anymore.”

stolen shot by a friend

“Your legs are long; you should flaunt them. Wear shorts.”

December 2018, Solo Staycation

“You’re good in writing! Keep it up!”

a poem I wrote in memory of someone

“You’re beautiful inside and out. Remember that.”

“I like your nose.”

a stolen shot of kidding around

“You’re kind in your own way.”

“You’re one of the most genuine people I’ve met.”

“You’re thin, not in a bad way. Many would die to have that kind of body”

“You look young, and that’s way even better.”

Year 2012

Year 2020 (latest picture)

These words, and many more touched me like no other. I still don’t find myself beautiful and I wish I could see what they see. But I try my best to appreciate myself better. To not let those words, get to me. I don’t need to be beautiful just to love me, as long as I know I’m doing my best not to please everyone, and I’m not stepping on other people.

I’m sick of all the labels I hear, and I think in this cruel world, we need to empower each other more, not pull each other down.

Right now, I’m appreciating my body more, my flaws, reminding that I should be thankful 'coz anybody would want the kind of body that I have. I look very young for my age, but at the same time I’ve done great things behind this teenage-like appearance: I’ve helped people through facilitating, I’ve touched lives through teaching, I’ve given inspiration to those who needed guidance, I’ve made poems from my own words, I’ve been learning to see the brighter side of everything, I’ve done in all my power to overcome my depression with the help of my friends, I’ve learned to live my life more than dwell on the bad things, I’ve been learning time management in my own home after almost a year of being jobless, I’m learning to love myself more, and care less.

I'm more than my body. I'm more than what you see. And I think you should know that you are too. Go flaunt that booty, get that haircut, love those curves (outward or inward), wear those clothes kept for ages in your closet, wear a bikini with those stretchmarks, get your ears pierced, don’t be ashamed with all of your scars. Because YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. We all are in our own way. It takes time to love your own skin, but remember, you are more than what you look like. You are YOU. And that is more than enough to conquer battles my dear. So fuck what people think and live your life!

P.S. “Scars are beautiful.”

Writer,

Thin Girl