However, I was made to feel that I was, not pretty. My hair was too curly, too dry, too thick, too long, the fringe funny, split ends much too many, my nose was flaired, I had pimples (which I used to get one or two small ones before I get my period), I was short, I walk funny, I was too thin, I was not that fair (such comments were made in passing when another ‘fair’ one was talked about, I had a long face, I had a plump face, my teeth were big, I had a big tummy and err, I was flat. You get the gist, don’t you?
All these and more when I was not aware that I was…pretty. Mostly, it was my own friends. Mind you, my own good friends.
I was a timid, shy kid with not so much of a self confidence. So to assume I brought such comments upon myself…nah. A time came when I simply cut loose these friends of mine. I had started working by then and made a new group of friends who were, simply like me. The ones who don’t care if your shoes matches your Prada. The ones, who, would jump at any opportunity to hunt for a good joint to eat. No one to pass comments about my looks as we all were having too much fun being ourselves and being together. We still do.
Les, the friends whom I deliberately cut off many years ago, slowly but steadly crept back into my life. They have grown. *nodding head with a knowing smile*
A segment on Oprah is the catalyst for this post. Oprah asked Linda Evans how it felt to beautiful. To which Linda answered, ‘I never felt I was beautiful.’ That did not trigger this post. Oprah’s reaction did. She rolled her eyes.
So what is the moral of the story?
A girl will not know how ‘pretty’ she is until she has come to a certain age or maturity. She discovers her ‘pretty’ self when she gains confidence. Pretty/beauty does not refer to appearance. It comes back to what is within her.