My face arrived today.
No, seriously. I had a brief stint as a model and my mom ordered a picture of myself and, for all intents and purposes, my two sisters to put on her wall. Don't get me wrong, it's a gorgeous picture. I look beautiful. So do they. That photography studio has never taken a bad picture of me. I like the picture plenty, I just hate what it says about me.
I have never put too much thought into what I put on in the morning. I don't wake up an hour early for school to do my hair, like my sister, it's a rare day when I wear makeup, and most of the time, I'm just fine with the way that I look. I'm not the prettiest, most put together girl at school and I know that. I've been told that I draw looks as I walk down hallways, but I never see them. What I do see, however, is all the guys (and girls) flocking to girls who spend at least an hour getting ready in the morning. People like to be surrounded by pretty people, and pretty takes a lot of time. As soon as you put on a coat of mascara, it's a competition. A contest to see who can look the best, have the prettiest face, be the most put together. And so I actively remove myself from this unspoken battle. By not wearing makeup, I'm not trying to be pretty. I'm not trying to compete to be the prettiest. I'm not setting myself up to lose.
But what if by so vehemently opposing standards, I am setting myself up to lose? Everyone likes to look put together, and it makes me more confident when I know I look good. It's just that every time I bring a stick of eyeliner to my lid, mascara to my lashes, or powder to my cheek, it suddenly becomes a game. A literal mask. I know why girls wear makeup, and I don't pretend to not need that sometimes. But I deny myself the cop-out, and I don't know why. If I look pretty with my face, I feel that I need to dress pretty and do my hair pretty. That's so much expectation to live up to. Competing in society's beauty race is so hard. I don't pretend to think I'm ugly. I know I'm not. So I tell myself that I don't need things like makeup to make me feel good about how I look.
What if that's a lie? I sometimes think by holding myself to that standard, I put even more pressure on myself. Because I don't allow myself to have a "cute day," it's always a struggle. I turn on the TV and the first thing I notice about the girls there? Their legs. One of my insecurities. A part of me that I constantly compare to everyone that I meet. It's awful, and I'm fully aware of that. I try to stop doing so, but it's more of a natural reaction than anything else. Also, I've noticed a trend in girls that have gotten over eating disorders: they're all skinny. I know why people are anorexics and bulimics- because it works. The last time I was able to fit into size 4 jeans was after I didn't eat very much for two weeks straight due to my wisdom teeth being removed and getting some strange sickness afterwards. It's scary, but it's hard to argue with fifteen pounds.
Am I saying I'm going to stop eating? No, I love food way to much. I just don't know why I don't care more about what I look like. One thing I do know, however, is why this post is coming out tonight. My mom made a comment about me consuming cheesecake. Granted, it was two pieces of cheesecake, but I had had a bad day. I wanted to cope with something. Food is not a good coping mechanism, but it's one that I use. Which is pretty counterproductive when I become a critic about the way that I look. The sad part was that if I had known she'd be home before I would be able to eat one of the two pieces, making it look like I only got one piece all along, I wouldn't have had the second piece. She's my biggest critic about what I put in my mouth, and that translates to me being my biggest critic about the way that I look.
As with all other insecurities, there are some good days and some bad days. Some days, what I look like doesn't matter to me because of what I'm doing or who I'm with, if I'm having fun and such. However, there are days where I wish I had put on some makeup before I left the house, or wish that I had done my hair all fancy instead of just throwing it on top of my head. Some days, I want to look pretty. For activities, for people, it doesn't matter: I just need to feel beautiful.
Hearing I weighed more than all my female friends was a killer. And no, girls don't just go around talking about that! It was relevant for belaying in rock climbing. But that led to thoughts about how I could never pull off said skirt my friend was wearing, or a dress this girl wore to homecoming. I never look good enough for me.
You can say, over and over again, like I do, that body image doesn't affect you and that society has no impact on the way you view yourself. You would then be, as I am, a liar.
Most of the time I'm able to get over it, and allow myself to have fun and to do things without my weight or how I look in my jeans being the first thing that pops into my head. Sometimes, though, it's not enough.
Back to the picture (I promise this has a point). I look at that photo, and ones like it, and I feel so beautiful. I hear that others think my pictures are pretty, and I become so, so happy. But do I look like that on the street everyday? Should I? Do people passing me think I'm as pretty as I am in my pictures? The problem comes with the fact that in order to validate the way that I look to myself, I need to paint my face. That I only feel truly beautiful with makeup to hide behind. What the hell? That's not right, at all. How could I let society have this mysterious, powerful control over me?
Whenever my mom sees pictures of myself and my friends on a normal day, her comments will range from "That looks fun" to "When was this?" When looking at pictures of us on homecoming, say, or when we're all dolled up for the camera? "She's SO pretty!"
Stop. Stop this. Stop telling people that they're only pretty on their prettiest days, and stop implying that they need to paint themselves in order to feel beautiful. Compliment your female friends, ladies, because we all know that your best friend saying you look pretty is a lot more unbiased than your boyfriend saying you look pretty. Make peace with yourself in terms of the way that you look. It's something that I'm going to try to do.
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