Pretty Hurts

“Do you think you’re pretty?”

That question asked around to each single girl in the group of new girls I’ve just met on my new school caught me totally off guard.

Luckily my mother hadn’t been like one of those mentioned in the song below and I grew up all wild, confident in my appearance and free up till the age of 10, and up till then not giving a single fuck about how I looked like or how I was being perceived physically by other people. And of course my parents would say and tell me often tnat I was pretty but it’s like you seem to take these compliments for granted because we all know our parents are kind of biased.

“I don’t know” seemed the right answer at that moment. I knew if I said “yes” they could have judged me for being conceited and if I said “no” it seemed like I didn’t like myself. Looking in hindsight I guess the right answer should have been… “who cares?”. But at that point in time it seemed obvious that everybody seemed to care because in media you got bombarded on adds with extremely beautiful girls and my friends started playing as if we were on one of those beauty contest like a lot at that time and I don’t remember ever winning of the many times we played. It was always the same ones that won. So at that age I started feeling that if life was all about winning a beauty contest then I was going to be a huge failure.

Going back to that story in the playground. Those girls said they thought I was pretty and I felt sort of relieved at that time but something happened from that moment onwards. I noticed later on in life that from around that moment in time forward my relationship with my reflection in the mirror changed for life. I no longer remembered what it was like to look at myself in the mirror and not questioning myself if I looked good, pretty or average. And if a guy didn’t seem to like me I would cry myself to sleep thinking the reason he didn’t like me it was because I wasn’t pretty enough. Because at that time being pretty seemed to be all that mattered when it comes to be “chosen” by the opposite sex.

From that moment I became also very aware of my body and my facial features and if it hadn’t been for those beauty contests it would have never occurred to me to look at other women and compared myself to them. But since they were playing that game very often I had no choice but to notice how other girls looked like in comparison to me as to see what were the objective reasons as to why they always won the same ones. I then started resenting the fact that nature had been sort of unfair to me. My friends got the perfect slender bodies, the perfect long sleek hair, the beautiful slim long legs… and I had unruly chaotic curly hair and my legs were on the short chunky side and my ribcage was too low and too wide, blah blah blah. I definitely didn’t have a slender femenine body type but what I was very proud of having though is this weird personality trait of mine that doesn’t allow me to feel the slightest tinge of envy inside my bones. If someone seemed to have it better than me I just wished that one day I would have it or to cause the same impression thanks to other attributes. If someone was considered more attractive or interesting I would study their character and I would apply what I learnt from them. Be that real people or fictional characters from books and movies. But not once have I ever felt like dimming someone’s elses light or make them feel insecure or bring them down.

But gosh did I wish for miracles when it came to my looks LOL. All I know is that for a looong time I was never 100% satisfied with what I got given at birth but eventually I learnt how to make the most of what I had. It soon became apparent that what I was lacking in looks I had it in brains and charisma. So I used those to my advantage. I also had an uncanny ability to pass tests without studying and dancing ad-lib so I focused on improving what I had going on for myself .

However there was a high price to pay for not trying to please other people aesthetically, and trust me, by age 12 I already given up on trying to look femenine and every time I tried to please my friends by looking less like a tom-boy when we went out together then I would look like so unnatural that I think it was totally unattractive. And at that time and for many years I just wore oversized trousers and t-shirts because I was into hip hop, r’n’b, grunge and hard rock all at once and I don’t know… I stopped living trying to impress other people with my looks.

But oh yes, the price to pay for looking like that… I mean how dare you not look pretty or your prettiest? how dare you not fix your hair or your style to the latest trend? how dare you look so masculine with those militar boots and chequered grunge T-shirts? How dare you ignore the popular girls and not give a damn about gossiping?

Looking at it in hindsight being bullied for being ugly is one of the best things that could have ever happened to me when it comes to soul searching surgery. When my friends were dating boyfriends I was reading books, analyzing human behaviour, listening to all sorts of music, perfecting my dancing moves, travelling to England, expanding my horizons and getting to know myself to the point that I no longer cared if people found me pretty or ugly because I realized my personality was as dope as it gets and then I had plenty enough to make up for what I seemed to lack in the beauty genetics department.

And that my personality was dope wasn’t my observation, it was the observation of several years noticing that all those male friends that kept falling in love with me started doing so for me just being myself. And soooo I realized all I needed to do was to be myself and train my brain to pay no attention to people who were superficial as those would never appreciate what makes me different or unique.

And then when not being pretty stopped hurting then all of a sudden everyone finds you fucking beautiful. Yes, one day one guy came to me at a club to just tell me “I’ve been looking at you all night long and I think you’re fucking beautiful” and left. And that was in my twenties but not long ago it also happened in my naughty forties.


Perhaps it was all that wishing I was prettier that did it for me.

Becareful what you wish because you might just get it!.

All I know is that the above experience must have done the soul surgery that was necessary to shine from within.

Suddenly men would approach me on the street and even get on their knees and thank god I was walking right in front of them, others just started singing along as I walked down the street chorus of people following him along included, some wanted my telephone number and would go enquiring about that girl that danced in that disco that night because they were besoughted with my dancing moves. Random strangers would suddenly stop me in the middle of the street to say “I know you may think I’m crazy but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I don’t want to lose the opportunity of getting to know you” and million of stories and compliments of that nature. They didn’t get my phone… oh no. By that time I wanted to be left alone from people who just saw me as just PRETTY. By then I had worked so hard on myself to be happy the way I was when it comes to my values, my worth, my insides, that if they just came and complimented me on something I didn’t get to choose for myself I felt kind of like … “this man is not worth my while”.

So then it hit me that being pretty hurts too in ways I had no idea it could:

How?

Well, like most say… it was impossible that I turn from ugly to pretty overnight. But bearing in mind I never got surgery done… I guess the way my nose is now is another of the miracles I performed in those years because there is no way I look back to those pictures and I see myself pretty in any way.

Pretty hurts when it takes some of your crushes years to master the courage and confidence to let you know they found you pretty and that they once had a crush on you losing that way whichever opportunity they could have of getting to be with you because a smart woman waits for no one. I know this because most of those men did tell me years later when they bumped into me online or in person. They were able to describe the clothes I used to wear when they spotted me at certain bus stops and all, etc.

It hurts even more when men feel you’re totally out of their league without them even trying to ask you out but in attempts to call your attention they start bullying you into believe you’re ugly or not so pretty instead.

Pretty hurts too when you can’t wait for a bus on a Sunday afternoon just in case the perv shows up again trying to give you a lift into town and then stopped there and started masturbating even when I had a coat neck to ankles. So it’s not like I was provocative at all. It hurts even more when people you least expect try to abuse you or take advantage of your beautiful appearance.

It hurts in a different way too when boyfriends of my friends complimented me in awe in front of them and everyone else because that slowly but surely meant that I would be ostracized from such gatherings in the future. But then it’s your fault… “how dare you be sooo captivating?” they must have thought… and I’m not making this up. They even named me as certain bird of prey that we learnt at that time that persisted and persisted on achieving their goal… no matter how many times so they thought if guys liked me is surely because I had imposed myself on them. When all I had they didn’t was the confidence you get from not giving a shit anymore about what people say about you so I wasn’t afraid to talk to boys like they were.

It hurts too when your male friends compliment your beauty in front of their girlfriends generating the same kind of jealousy and envy in women who are either not confident enough with their bodies or unsure about their partner’s feelings when it came to me. It hurts twice as much when you realize your male friends are never male friends and they just happened to be men that tried to get you in bed but once they had a girlfriend it made sense to stop being friends all of a sudden.

It hurts even more when you realize your husband is more superficial than you could have ever possibly imagined. Not only he would critize me for being overweight when I felt I was a fit size 12, but he would also expect me to look perfectly fit whilst being pregnant first and second time around. And of course not getting your body back after pregnancy wasn’t an option. After all his ex got her body back in two weeks but no pressure there. Me baking a human being and having to worry if I looked fit enough? Hahaha. I’m not sure if he knew who he was married to but from that month of pregnancy onwards he would only be allowed to touch my tummy until the baby was born… and only because the baby was in there. Oh yes. I love challenging myself to get as fit as I can get but that felt more like some kind of abuse if you ask me. But thanks to his obsessive concern about my physical health… I started slimming down and used him as the fitness coach I would have never paid to lose weight. Now, thanks to him and the obsession he got me in, even when I’m single I choose to look my fittest possible. I mean, I always wanted to be as fit as I could be, but everytime I see him I can feel he’s judging me based on my weight. So I couldn’t have done it without the controlling behaviours he executed over me for years and I have witnesses from how I went to eat whatever when I felt like it to to have to say “no” to many things when he looked at me… or to eat behind his back, because I’m obviously not born to be controlled… lol. Now perhaps I can thank him as whether he likes it or not I’m staying fit. Probably as a revenge if you ask me.

And then it’s when pretty hurts when you value depth of character and it seems all men can see and care about it’s just superficial beauty.

Pretty hurts as well when men that don’t know me at all wrongly assume things about me or my behaviour based on how pretty they perceive me to be. And as you can imagine I have no control over such perception of me so I can’t correct their wrong assumptions about me until they actually get to know me and anyone that acts on those thoughts are not really on my list either to correct their wrong impression about me. I just have no time to be nice to everyone who tries to call my attention these days and if that then made me a diva then I’m a diva.

And it hurts that just because you look beautiful you must be fake, superficial, arrogant or dumb.

Ohh and you know what hurts too? waxing and laser hair removal just to please some weird beauty standards a few sados imposed as beauty standards for women.

And so far so good that’s been my experience with PRETTY, which has been pretty long and pretty varied considering that for many years I didn’t even think I was.

And not sure how many more years of PRETTY I have left, but I know that I’ll be fine when it fades away. I’m happy with who I am and what I’ve become. Because all along I’ve been working on being able to offer other qualities to me like faithfulness, honesty, loyalty, integrity, positive vibes and turning a negative mind into a positive mindset. So if they can’t appreciate that or they can’t get to see that side of me it’s often because they’re not giving me anything as a guarantee that I won’t be wasting my time getting to know them.

So here is my advice for anyone who wants to be more attractive: Becareful what you wish because you might just get it!!

You have one life so make sure you make things that make you happy. That’s the only way that will make you radiate beauty from within.

Pretty or not pretty doesn’t hurt me anymore. I’m more about becoming someone of value and it makes happy that hopefully just by sharing this experience other people will learn to value other stuff in life more rather than just a genetical make up we didn’t get to choose for ourselves.

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