Saturday, November 8, 2014

Can't Seem to Let Go

Picture that I both love and hate.
I'm just done. I hate hating myself, but I don't know if I can do anything else.

I woke up today and had some extra time before meeting friends for brunch. So I actually took the time to wash, blow-dry and style my hair -quite a feat and time commitment when you have as much hair as I do. I even took the time to put on makeup. I felt great. Pretty, even. I ran out the door and went to brunch. It was fantastic; a lot of fun and a great time catching up with old friends.

And then someone suggested we take a picture and I just froze. It's a perfectly reasonable request. I even wanted the picture to commemorate the fun time we'd had. I just didn't want to be in it. Not at all. I was very insistent that I would not be in it and eventually my well-intentioned friends acquiesced to my refusal and I snapped the picture of everyone else. But my attitude rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, I felt pretty. I even felt picture-ready. The best version of myself that I could've been this afternoon. I just didn't want it photographed and documented because then I'd be faced with the reality of what I look like. But it's just so much easier to forget how deeply unattractive I find myself if I never have to be faced with the damning "evidence".

  • I hate my nose. Too big; too pointy.
  • I hate my eyes. Small and beady, especially if I smile.
  • I hate my size. Feeling like I just swell and take up the whole picture frame.
  • I hate my chin. Always too fat and not defined enough.
  • I hate the facial hair I try desperately to control and just can't seem to keep under control.
  • I hate my teeth. Just slightly too yellow.
  • I hate my stupid grey hairs. Reminding me just how old I feel.
  • I hate everything about myself.
I feel so lacking. Like I will never be enough to just leave myself alone. I've never really wanted to be  beautiful. Perhaps because I never considered it an option? Even now, I really just want to not hate myself. Maybe I could attain some level of indifference? But would that bring any peace at all? Or would I just continue as I have been since the first day I became cognizant as a child of not fitting the mold of beauty?

I don't know and I wish I didn't care.
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