If you're a living breathing teenager or young adult, you've no doubt heard the classic phrase from a family member, "You're gonna be a little heartbreaker!" Our families truly think we are all going to have suitors dropping to our feet, and choosing who we want to be with will be as easy as choosing a piece of candy from a vending machine.
What about those of us who suffered in the looks department? Not a total train wreck, but you're definitely passed up more often than you would like to confess. And what exactly do I mean by passed up? (I'll be speaking from a female perspective, but I definitely feel for other genders as well. If you agree with me, then grieve with me, and text me that we can be ugly together and it will all be okay.)
Passed up meaning you had your first kiss a lot later than most of your friends, and pretty much did everything else later than your friends. It means you dreaded dances and socials because most other people would have a date, but you'd be going as a group. It means once you grew up and drinking at bars became cool, your hotter friend got free drinks and you just sat there texting your mom.
That's the basics. From a more personal standpoint, I know I could be a tiny bit more attractive if I try. And by try, I mean extensions in, makeup on, and going to the mall and trying to find an outfit that doesn't show the fat I'm always trying to hide. Trying would also include taking care of my skin and not stuffing my face with comfort food.
Depression makes that hard. I want to give my all, but my mind tells me there's no point. Even if I get all done up, I'll still come second best to my sister, who's been getting hit on since I even knew what that was, and my best friend, who couldn't be unattractive if she was paid to do it. I'll only be hit up so a guy friend can ask me if they're single. It gets so tiring to leave your house for a night out feeling like you might get a look today, and cry in the bathroom because you're being treated like you don't exist. And soon to follow are the blue boxes on Snapchat, replying to the picture of you and your better-looking friend. "Who's she?" repeats in your head over and over as you try to sleep that night.
I have talked about my looks before, tons of times. And I will probably keep talking about it for as long as it bothers me. It bothers me that I hate summer because I hate showing my body when it gets hot. It bothers me that I wear a shirt to the beach. It bothers me that I hate pictures because I have no good angles, and I'm always the uglier one. It bothers me that I have always equated male attention to female worth.
When I was little, I always dreamed of one guy looking at me through a crowd of other girls, and choosing me. I always dreamed of getting that fairy tale ending. Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me" was my anthem, any time a crush of mine had their eyes on someone else. And any time was, in reality, every time. I wish one person could look through different eyes, and see who I really was. The inside doesn't ever matter as much as the out though, so I always lost.
I have waited a very long time to not hate myself with every bone in my body, but that day has yet to come. I was hoping that this article would be a self-help kind of thing, telling myself that I was more than my appearance and just because 80% of the men in my life didn't find me attractive doesn't mean I'm not. This is mostly just me letting out my frustrations. I'm not the self-love voice of my generation, as much as I'd like to be. The voices in my head won't let that happen.
I always like to imagine a world where we were all visually impaired. Where we judged people based on their character and not their face. And this applies to friendships too. Can you imagine how many more friends people would have if our low-key superficial ideals didn't get in the way? Granted, this does not go for everyone in the world. I tend to go on what I've seen, and I guess that's one of my many bad qualities.
I hope one day I can get my "Princess Diaries" makeover. Until that happens, I will stay jealous of all the naturally beautiful women in the world, who don't need a drop of makeup for people to turn heads. I will stay jealous of the girls who have all the friends they can ask for because they fit the criteria of someone that people consider worthy of being around. Someone that doesn't embarrass them, or taint their image. I will envy those who are able to look in the mirror and not wish to be someone else every second they're alive.
One day, being me won't feel like a curse. I just pray to whatever is making this world turn, that that day comes soon. Because until then, it sucks.