I'm tired of looking pretty. It sucks.
I know, I know--I can only imagine what you're thinking. Who says, "I'm tired of looking pretty" unless they're pretentious or looking for attention? Well, that would be me. So before you write me off and decide I'm full of it, I urge you to read on.
Growing up I was never the pretty girl. I was quite awkward, had zero fashion sense and didn't wear makeup or style my hair. As you can imagine, this didn't win me many friends; or boyfriends for that matter. Yet I never cared much about that. I had no problem being on my own, using my imagination when I didn't have a friend. I owe this a lot to my parents I suppose because they taught me early on not to base my value off of others.
However, once I graduated high school and started college things changed. At this point, I had (mostly) grown out of my awkwardness and into a woman. Now I'm not naive, trust me there are many girls out there that are much prettier than I am, but I couldn't deny that I was no longer a social outcast. I fit right in as a thin, pretty, athletic young woman. Score, right?
Except I found myself put off by this new label. As college cliches began to form, like a ridiculous game of musical chairs, I felt confused about where I fit in. Suddenly guys were asking me out, saying how great I was even though we'd barely talked. Girls were gossiping to me and inviting me to parties. And while most girls would probably love this, it started to piss me off because I knew a majority of them only liked me for what they thought I was.
The more people I met, the more I realized that everyone already had this preconceived idea of me in their heads. It was nerve racking and honestly infuriating. Who were they to say who or what I was? All they'd seen was my body and all they knew about me was the label I received because of it.
Why do I hate this? Because I am not "pretty." I've been through a lot in my short life and I promise you I am not this pretty girl you seem to think I am. I am all torn apart and I have walls up higher than the empire state with a sarcastic wit to match. I'm cynical and contemplative. I'm full of Christ's joy, while still weighed down by my depression and anxiety. I am smart and brave and kind. But people look at me and all they see is a pretty face. A pretty face for a pretty girl with a pretty life. How nice, how easy--except that isn't me.
Because of this, I began to hate how I looked. It made me feel like no matter how great I was or am or could be mattered because my physical appearance was now the forefront.
The more I felt accepted by society, the less I felt good about myself. Unfortunately, there's nothing much to do about it. That's just reality and I hate it. I hate trying to look pretty every day, worrying about makeup and insecurities, trying to impress people I don't even know. I began to compare myself more and more to those around me. I used to not care, but now that I was on a level playing field with society, it was so hard to not listen. I can't stress enough how awful it feels to have to constantly compete with others. Whether you're "winning" or not, it's shit.
Of course, this isn't just me I'm talking about. This is about every woman out there that has felt exhausted trying to keep up their physical appearance for the sake of others. So do you understand now why the idea of looking pretty is one I sometimes don't care to hold?