I was never a popular girl. Ever. The popular girls in my world scorned and teased me actively in middle school, studiously ignored me in high school. And my actual friends talked a good game about the importance of non-conformism as an important and valuable characteristic. They relied on it as a means of feeling detached and superior, but in reality we all wished to be just a little more like the in-crowd. And we made many concessions to their preferences and edicts, often wore what they said we should, frequently looked and acted how they wanted us to.
Originally posted 2012-06-29 06:40:17.
On writing this, I’ve just returned from the tailor. I needed two pairs of pants and a dress hemmed; Both were MILES too long, and I am 5′ 5.5″, which is quite an average height for an American gal according to every chart I’ve ever seen. Yet I am not anxious or uneasy about having to tailor my duds. I didn’t start questioning my proportions, height, or body just because the clothes I bought didn’t fit me properly. I didn’t worry that I should be taller or longer-legged because I know it’s not me, it’s the clothes.
Originally posted 2014-05-13 06:16:09.
When I was in high school, my dear friend Emily would address me by saying, “Hey, beautiful!” It always unnerved me back then, though I would never have been able to articulate why. With my 20-20 hindsight, however, I can quite easily tell you why: I didn’t believe I was beautiful.
I never mentioned this to Emily, of course, because sheesh, how rude would THAT be. And so she kept doing it. And so I kept cringing. But eventually the cringing lessened, and then subsided completely. And on a day to day basis, I may still struggle to believe that I’m beautiful. But what I DO believe is that Emily thinks I’m beautiful. I believe that every day, and it is meaningful and helpful and a generous gift for her to have given me.
Originally posted 2014-04-28 06:36:21.