Awkward things.

On The Inside

on April 7, 2013

I am not pretty. There, I said it. I was not born with sparkling eyes and flowing hair and skin that glows from the inside, like some strange, Ed Gein-inspired lamp. All through my high school life I felt that I wasn’t worthy, just because I wasn’t pretty like the other girls. I couldn’t tread outside the library at lunchtime without footballs being kicked at my face, I donated my lunch to popular girls in the hope that they would like me, (they didn’t,) and I didn’t dare talk to boys I liked, preferring to sheepishly stare at their hands, thus developing a fetish. Then I discovered make-up.

I winged my eyes, smothered my lips in gloopy shimmer, rouged my cheeks and BAM! I wasn’t invisible anymore. Sure, I wasn’t a supermodel, but I never wanted to be, I just wanted to be seen as another human being, with thoughts and feelings, and it seemed to work. I remember the first time a girl told me that my hair looked nice. I freaked OUT, internally of course. I was attempting to project a cool image on the outside, whilst being a shrieking geek on the inside. It didn’t work quite like that, but make-up helped me to look in the mirror and see someone worth looking after.

That’s why I don’t get all this ‘Look! Don’t I look pretty without makeup? So do you!’ celebrity nonsense, because, as un-PC as it is to say out loud, or type: Not everyone is pretty. Not everyone can brave the midday sun with nothing but a slick of sunscreen and a smile; that way lies screaming children and shouts of ‘MONSTER!’ In my opinion, as long as it makes you feel better, and as long as you stay the same, awesome, beautiful-on-the-inside person that I know you are, you should slather your face in whatever makes it look prettiest, because you are worthy.


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