As a young, ambitious — and often times — stubborn woman, I am habitually faced with many external forms shaming me and dragging me down, but who doesn’t face those demons on a frequent basis? Media, societal norms, sexism, fashion and beauty, popular culture, and masculine and feminine roles — to name a few — have worn their influence on how I have seen myself through the couple of decades I’ve been in existence. I know I am not alone on this topic. Young girls and growing boys face the blunt of these influential margins; they mold and stunt the growth of our youth into hating the very form of their being.
Slowly, patiently, and tenderly, I have been chipping away at the mold that has developed around my confidence, my self-esteem, my thighs, my self-worth, my body, my voice, and my eyes over the years. And I have finally fallen in love with myself. It hasn’t been easy, and it’s not yet over. There is still a daily struggle, but I am much happier and care-free. And it didn’t happen overnight…
The insecurities started late elementary school when I chopped off my long straight hair. I never realized how much I hid behind my hair until I cut it all off again junior year of college. I felt naked and vulnerable, but I felt free.
The insecurities continued into the fifth grade when I gained a tummy and a couple of chubby cheeks. It continued when I started to grow breasts in the sixth grade. And it still continues. The hardest part of loving myself is my figure — my physical-ness, what gives me mass and surface area — my body. It’s a rollercoaster affair because my weight never plateaus, it’s never just maintained — it fluctuates. I gained weight. Then I lost it. I started lifting weights for rugby. Then I stopped. I loved my toned arms, and I loved my nice butt, but now I love my flabby thighs and my untoned tummy just as much.
The hardest time to love yourself is when you don’t feel like you are at your best; when your complexion becomes disheveled and you’ve gained a few extra pounds. When you lack your self-esteem and it dulls your charisma. The semester I felt the most out of place, the most unconfident, and the most “unpretty,” was the semester I received the sincerest compliment — that my ambition is the sexiest thing about me.
There are many layers to loving yourself. It’s about putting your self-worth on a pedestal and never compromising your happiness for the mediocracy of someone else.
Find your innermost self, your “inner beauty.” Cling to it during your most unruly bad hair days, flaunt it when you sport your sweatpants in public and wear it on your sleeve when you feel your most “unpretty.”
