How many of us girls look in the mirror and wish we had straighter noses, longer eyelashes, fuller lips, thinner waists, bigger boobs, gaps between our thighs? A lot of us. And how many of us have some of these attributes that others would kill to have? All of us. Each of us has an attribute someone else would love to have.
I get that. I do. And, I have a lot of those attributes. I have long eyelashes, full lips, big boobs, and nice curves to my body. I’m not stick thin, but I’m not obese, either. It took me 19 years to come to have some self confidence about my body. Growing up, I was always told that if I lost 30 pounds, I’d be better at sports, so I always just assumed I was fat because everyone else was smaller than me. Then, I had to listen to those that were super thin talk about how they were fat, and it made me feel like a whale. But, I couldn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bring attention to my fattiness. I am 5’6”, but, to me, this is short. Yes, I know it’s really the average, but when you are told that you needed to be 4 inches taller all the time, it makes you feel so small.
As a teenager especially, I had an image to uphold. I was the sweet, innocent, smart, intelligent, quiet, shy, young girl. I was a hard worker, a bit of a teacher’s pet, responsible, down to earth, mature. I was everything I was supposed to be. Someone told me to jump, I asked how high. It didn’t matter if I wanted to do it or not or if I even liked to do it. I just had to. There was no other option. You know that welcome mat you wipe your feet on when you walk through the door? I was that mat. As long as everyone else was happy, that was fine. I may not have been happy, but I was content. That meant no one else was unhappy, no one would be angry, disappointed or be yelling.
Basically, I had no self confidence. At all. In anything, which is probably why I never had a boyfriend in high school. No one ever hit on me or called me pretty, so I started to believe it was true. My mom, her friends, and my grandma would tell me I was so beautiful and that guys should be flocking to get to me. But, that’s just something moms and grandmas are supposed to tell their daughters.They aren’t going to tell me that I’m ugly and hideous. I watched my best friend get used and cheated on by the boy she so desperately loved. And, I guess that jaded me a bit.
I have had four boyfriends. Two cheated on me and left me for other women they eventually married. I broke up with one for being too clingy and kind of a dick to me and my family, and he is going to marry the girl he dated after me. What did these three teach me? They only wanted to use me for a bit and then they’ll get tired of me when they find someone better. I never feel like someone’s first choice. I’m always second best. Throughout all of that, I saw some guys that wanted my body but not actually date me. So, that made me believe that there is something wrong with me. That I’m just not good enough for anyone. And when I finally put my whole heart and soul and very being into a relationship like I did with the fourth boyfriend, he broke up with me telling me I deserved better. So, not even my best is good enough. He was the one who made me feel good enough, but I just was left feeling unwanted and hurt.
These guys have told me countless times that they thought I was beautiful and amazing, but I don’t believe it. I just feel like they are telling me what I want to hear. I truly do not believe I’m pretty. Not compared to a lot of women out there. And, I know I should never compare myself to others, but it’s hard not to.
It wasn’t until I was 19, when my college roommate told me she thought my body was what people should look like, what the average was, that I thought maybe I wasn’t as obese as I had once thought. Since then, I have started to slowly accept myself for who I am. I am more confident in my body and in my image and who I am than I have ever been. And, I think that’s starting to show through.
Recently, I have been getting hit on on a semi regular basis, and this has started making me think about that. These random guys have the choice to hit on anyone they wanted. And they chose me. They don’t need to necessarily tell me what I want to hear because if I don’t like them, they can go take a pick from all the other women in the bar. But they chose me. I have to shoot them down every time, but it has started to get me thinking that maybe I’m not as ugly a duckling as maybe I once thought, and this thinking is so different from the twenty-some years of negativity I had been experiencing.
I love the new found confidence and the higher self esteem. It’s coming to me slowly but surely as I start to like my body more and more. I just have to take it one day at a time.