Ugly Me

There is something about studying content analyses, ANOVAS, and t-tests that spurs me to write. So here I am, blogging, again. 


I read something from one of my favorite blogs, www.nyminutenow.com, that reminded me of my childhood. See, the writer posted an old pic of hers when she was a kid. She looks great, really cute--  a far cry from what I looked like when I was a kid.


I wasn't the most good-looking girl back in then. Growing up in a country where people think fair skin and straight hair rule, people labelled me as ugly. I was fat, dark, and had curly hair. It didn't help that I had a bad case of zits which lasted for years.


What made it worse though was that I was surrounded by girls--whom I consider my friends by the way-- who would constantly pick on what I looked like and what I wore, almost every damn day. I got comments about my hair, my boobs, the fact that I wore heels to school, and even the blackheads on my nose. And mom, since I know you keep tabs on my whereabouts and thoughts, I want you to know that there were also boys who made fun of me, constantly. Remember that there was a time when I wanted to transfer to another school? That was my reason.


And for several years, I tried to conform to the standard of beauty that everybody has: I tried to straighten my hair (never mind if I damaged it in the process), and bought bottles of whitening products and pills. I wasted my money on things that weren't so worth it.


If I were an American, I would have been going to a shrink now. But I'm glad I'm not. And I'm glad that one night, I talked to Ianne Evangelista.


Ianne used to be an editor of Cosmo Philippines. We're not really friends, but one night, when I was feeling a little uncomfortable with my new pixie hairdo and on my way to a party (I hated my curls so much I cut them all off!) , I passed by her cubicle. Out of the blue, she called out to me, "I love your hair."


A little dumbfounded, I said, "Really? People don't like it."


"I used to have that sort of hair. I even had it shorter. Look." She then showed me her ID, and there it was, she in a super sort hair do. "I like your hair. And besides, in the middle of summer. It's hot, no!"


That night, she gave me a couple of tips on how to rock that hairdo. And if my memory serves me right, she told me that I have such a nice complexion, and the kind of makeup that should go with it. 


There is something about a beautiful girl complimenting you that makes you feel better. After that short chat, I felt more comfortable, and a little more prouder of the color of my skin. Sure, I still have a few insecurities, but I have stopped wanting to change the color of my skin. Hello, I have a boxful of whitening products--giveaways from a party--in my bedroom in the Philippines, untouched until this day. I think they expired a year ago. :)


In my years in Summit, I noticed that it's the pretty girls who are generous in their praise in how you look, and  if they don't like the way you dress up, they just keep quiet, unless you ask for their opinion. The average looking girls have a tendency to pick on everything. Strange. 


I now understand that what made me look ugly back then was that, judging by the pictures, I felt really pissed-- of being surrounded by girls (and boys) who would pick on me. It wasn't because of my color, or my hair. I was ugly because I was pissed. Big time!


By the way, I kept that short hairdo for two years, to the irritation of my parents, who wanted me to have long hair. When I got tired of it, I grew out my hair. The Shirley Temple curls are now in full display. But I kinda miss it now. Maybe I should cut my hair again. :)