I like sharing personal stories. Somehow, it relieves me of the burden of carrying around hurts or pains.
Insecurity has been my biggest headache. And guess what? It has to do with my body. I think I’m apple-shaped, i.e, broad shoulders, skinny arms and legs, narrow hip etc. The society’s standard is a full chest, curvy hips, a nice backside etc. Sometimes, when I go out, I feel like the ugly duckling. All the talks about beauty being in the eyes of the beholder, has no effect on me. I mean, we all know what is fine or beautiful. And because of how we’re programmed, beautiful things attract us. I’m also attracted to good looking guys. Some girls are lucky; they’ve got the face and the body. Others like me, aren’t so lucky. We have to work on our attitudes ’cause our physical features are just a no, no, no. I know beauty is vain. I know it depreciates with age. And I hate the fact that I have been so consumed by insecurity because of the fleeting attribute called beauty. I’ve tried so many times to change my thinking and believe me, I did try. Every wall of confidence crumbles the moment I’m faced with stark reality. I’m not so pretty. On a scale of 1 through to 10, I’d say 4.
I remember sometimes last year, I was sitting close to a guy. He said something and I replied him. He then looked at me and said, “every other thing on earth is more beautiful than you.” It hurt me. Tears started welling up but I had to restrain myself because we were in public. I just sat there looking sad. I detest photographs. I’ve been told things like, ” you’re not photogenic” And because of that, I try as much as possible to stay away from cameras. I’ve pushed guys away. Some thought I had an awful attitude. What they never knew was that I was insecure. What if after falling in love with them, they decided to end things with me maybe because I no longer appeal to them? I can’t take the risk. I might just end up heartbroken.
I’ve prayed to God to if possible, grant me a new body. Sounds ridiculous? I’ve done that times without number. I’ve always thought that maybe if I were more beautiful, life will be easier.
I’m not writing this to get your sympathy. I’m writing this to feel better. I feel a kind of relief when I tell people what I’m going through. Bottling in thoughts like this is depressing. I don’t want to be depressed. I want to be happy.