In my 23 years of breathing I have heard plenty of other humans opinions on varies aspects of my life. From my career choice, hair cut, tattoos, shoes and even a Christmas tree; I think I have heard it all.
I’ve said before, I was always a tad bit strange. I like “different” styles; colored hair, eccentric tattoos, facial piercings. If it wasn’t close to the norm, I loved it. Now, I was a slightly chubby, acne prone, pubescent “child” when I first heard the likes of Fall Out Boy, and from then on I knew that there was finally a place for me amongst the world. There were other people out there that enjoyed the same things that I enjoyed.
Let me back up a little to kinda help point this in the right direction so you understand where exactly I am getting. You see, my two older sisters are absolutely gorgeous, and I am pretty sure if you have followed along to this blog you’ve heard that before. They are both tall, slender, luscious golden blonde hair, ocean blue eyes; I’m telling you they could model. I, on the other hand, sport green/gray eyes, dumpy posture and I hang closer to the ground at 5’4 whereas they are both almost 6 foot each. I prayed and waited and prayed some more for the day to finally arrive where I resembled them instead of what I actually looked like. I tried to wear more makeup, attempted to look a little more “feminine” with my clothing choices and contemplated coloring my already dark brown mop to resemble their naturally light color. I couldn’t make peace with how I looked. For as long as I can remember, any conversation that I held with people who knew my sisters would always include, “Your sisters are gorgeous girls!” and as vain as it sounds, I was always upset that I wasn’t included in that. I spent so much of my time wishing I could be someone else, be
prettier skinnier tanner better different than who I actually was that I forgot that I could be all of those things. But I didn’t actually have to be any of those things either.
I wanted so badly to be like the girls who decorated the cover of trashy magazines, yet I knew I just wouldn’t. It wasn’t possible. Even now, I’ll see celebrities who are my age (or younger) and wonder why in the world I can’t look like them (Demi Lovato I am looking at you kid!)! Weight aside, my skin isn’t clear, my hair is kinda in that weird “in between” stage of short and medium length, I don’t have the whole “make up” thing down. Basically, I’m just a strange mix of an adult who looks like a child 97% of time, and the other 3%… I just look awkward. And, I wish I could tell you that one day I just woke up and came to the conclusion that I will never be cookie cutter “pretty”, but that would be a lie and I do try my best to shy away from those. No, instead I have days where I look in the mirror and think, “Well hey there! You are kinda pretty today!” and then other days where I just cry. And cry and cry. And then throw stuff around and pound my fists against my hips and cry some more.
We hear so much about “Body Positivity” now and I think that is a such a great thing! We need more people to be in love with the bodies that we were granted with instead of lusting over someone else’s. I do admit though, I have a hard time with it for myself. I can rattle of 9 trillion compliments to strangers about their bodies, faces, clothes etc., but when it comes to myself? Well, it’s true about being our own worst critic. I do however, feel like I have (in a way) finally grew into my awkwardness. I colored my hair purple (on accident, no less) started accumulating more and more ink and wear cat shirts on every available date. I might not totally “dig” who I am, but I am closer today than I was yesterday!
*This picture was just one of the few that I took during a Family Photo shoot! That’s my oldest baby, Lord Barkawa. She is around 13/14 years old. 🙂