Trying To Be Beautiful

 

I do not have very many photo's of myself.  That is mainly because I am the person with the camera in my hand, but I have to admit that I feel very ugly in them.  These photo's are illusion.  These photos repersent how I see myself with hair, make-up and a soft light.  The other photos are how other people see me.  They are snap shots of reality and I don't like thoose.  In this post are my professional pics.  The Black & White photos were for my agent, the rest I did for fun, so I am not wearing my glasses.

I realized that being universally beautiful is very rare.  Beauty seems much more prevalent then it really is.  And I believe that is because we are bombarded with very attractive people in the media.  I'm not going to go into the social ramification of beauty in society, but since I have started watching British TV shows, I have noticed a dramatic difference in their choice of actors.  I am not talking about the main characters, they have to have some kind of beauty for us to watch whether that is physical or not, no I am talking about the back-up people.  In the British shows I have seen some down right ugly people!  I am sometimes startled by the casting directors choice, but I find myself thinking, "They must really have talent because that person would never make it here in America." 

Now I get annoyed with the American shows & Movies.  I mean, I watch a crime drama and every single person is beautiful from the pedestrians walking the streets to the hookers or bums.  They maybe dirty, but they still have flawless features.  I laugh when I see a scene featuring an actress freshly out  of the shower with full face make-up on.  Come On!  Are we really so vain? Oh, yes we are.

I thought everyone in the world was beautiful, but me.  I thought there was no hope for me, but then I started to look around.  I was traveling home from school on public transportation and a really beautiful young lady caught my eye  I normally put on my headphones and try to block everything out while trying very hard to be ignored by the general population. but she was so pretty to me that her looks jarred me into noticing the other people around me.  I began to wonder.  How many beautiful people would I meet in the course of my travels?

I lived in Long Beach, Cali going to Fashion Design College.  It is expensive enough with living costs, but add the money for supplies and it was just murder!  My mother loves sewing and she had a whole backroom added onto the house where she hoarded her treasures.  I had a huge advantage over the students away from home with owning my own sewing machines and every needed fabric & trims on hand, if I went home over the weekend, plus if we didn't have it, Mom was more than willing to spend the afternoon buying it.  I was not going to pass this advantage up.  I was trying to spend as little money as possible.  A car was an expense I wasn't willing to take on, so through a bunch of research I found I could get from Long Beach to my home in Simi Valley all for a cost of $10.  I was very lucky, but it took 4 hours.  I could go back on the train, but my mother was willing to drive me back down to the dorms after the weekend.  That worked out the best because I usually had a project in my bag or some groceries to stash in my room.  That drive took an hour with no traffic.

Here is the run down of the trip.  I used the buses for 2 years in Long Beach and they were all horrible.  Sometimes I would wait for close to an hour in the so very, very cold, but there was a stop in front the the school that ran like clockwork.  I hopped on that bus riding it 5 miles or more to where the Blue line train crossed its route.  Thankfully it was a straight shot.  Then hurried to board the blue line train. It isn't underground, but a subway type train.  That Blue line would snake through Long Beach and I would ride it all the way until it ended at the Red line.  Then you had to choose which way on the Red line to go.  I moved into Downtown LA where the Red line became a Subway.  I would ride that car until to Union Station.  The place is huge.  LA's version of Grand Central Station.  I laugh now when I see a train station on TV because it is usually the LA Union Station you see.  That place was confusing because every form of transportation converged there.  I found I needed to boarded a big Amtrak train.  That one was trickier because it only left 2 times a day, if you missed it, you missed it, unlike the subway, where another one would show up in 10 minutes.  I then rode the big commuter train to Simi where my Mom would pick me up.  It was quite exhausting all the waiting.  I was always very glad to be home.
Here's the kicker.  I saw maybe a dozen people I thought were attracted and only one person I would call beautiful in my year of noticing.  I started to really look at the people around me.  I started to really look for beauty and I was startled by the lack of that particular trait in the movement of everyday life.   And yet we pour so much time and effort into being beautiful.

The point of this story is to offer perspective.  My thinking shifted.  I happen to have very attractive cousins and aunts.  That helped to skew my thinking being the ugly duckling among a group of swans.  I assumed they knew they were beautiful, but when I hear them talk about being ugly my jaw drops.  I opened my eyes to the everyday people walking the streets, handing us our drinks and who we live with.  I started to see why someone who was really attractive would go to Hollywood.  Universal beauty is a very rare trait.

I tried to be beautiful.  I was successful in the fact that others began to notice me.  I have never been called beautiful or pretty or attractive.  I have been called "put together" or told that I "looked good".  And I did.  I worked very hard for my looks to not hamper me, but my goodness, it is expensive!  Not only that, but it is a lot of work to up keep. 

It all started with a fabulous haircut by someone who knew the world of beauty.  She knew what products to use, how and when.  I was so clueless in that area.  I knew whenever I saw this woman it was going to be a 100 bucks without blinking.  My hair has always been my crowning glory.  When someone was forced to compliment me as a sullen teenager it was always about my hair.  I have a very gold base red hair.  I wore it long and when it was freshly cut with the dramatic angles I felt beautiful.  I saw possibilities.  I saw the chance to be acceptable in the world around me.  I decided to try contacts once again when I found they had disposables for my terrible astigmatism.  That was so much money.  Over $300 for a one month supply when I could buy a cute pair of glasses for the same amount and they would last for years.  I finally gave up and went that route for the cost and because those contacts hurt.

With contacts people could suddenly see my eyes.  Hiding behind a pane of glass I could get away with out too much make-up, but with contacts I looked awful without the definition.  I had to have mascara because my eyelashes look Blonde.  I had to have eyeliners and I needed to darken my eyebrows.  So this spiraled me into another crazy set of action.  I hated putting the make-up on.  It sounds nuts but I began to resent the waste of time.  I found a person who could tattoo an eyeliner on to my eyes.  It hurt like a mo-fo, but it was really great.  My mother said you know it's good when nobody notices.  It has since rubbed off, you have to get the tattoo refreshed once a year.  I also had my eyelashes dyed.  I figures $40 for a month of masacra free life was worth it, but the color dropped out after only a couple of days.  I was really mad about that one.  It wasn't laziness that prompted my search.  I can't stand the feel of make-up.  I rub it off on accident all the time and find the lipstick on my teeth constantly.  It wasn't just putting it on and forgetting it, but a constant need to be aware of something that I didn't care about.  Girls have to think about how they look constantly.  It is more valuable then currency in this world.  It doesn't leave much time for other thinking. I'm just glad I didn't get my eyebrows done.  That would have lead me into a another dark tunnel of no return.  I was thinking about it.

I was at the top of my game.  I was the prettiest that I was going to be.  My closet is filled with high quality clothing that did the best with my body shape.  My hair the nicest it has every been, the make-up done.  I was as good as it was going to get and I knew I still fell short.  In the end the expense, the time and the total lack of response from the male gender lead to me giving up.  My looks have never defined me to myself.  I have avodied looking in the mirror for most of my existence, so being pretty didn't change that for me.

In Long Beach I had a tough time making friends as always.  We just did not think alike.  I found a Viking Goddess for a friend quite by accident.  She liked that I thought outside the box.  We had been invited to a party and despite my reservations I accepted.  Sara came over to my dorm room so we could get ready together.  It was surprisingly fun for me since I had never had that experience before.  I very rarely feel comfortable enough with another person to be silly.  We were standing side-by-side checking ourselves in my closet door mirrors when I glanced at her.  Sara was tall and board.  She had the body of an American Gladiator or a body builder.  Her hair was a straight platinum Blonde which almost looked white against her tan skin tone.  She had bright piercing through blue eyes like those of a bird.  She wasn't a classic delicate beauty, but when I looked at her and then I looked at me I finally realized the horrible disadvantage I had. 

With a sicken clarity I realized that no man would glance across the room and fall for me.  Even worse I knew that he wouldn't even be interested.  There had always been a hope, a small figment of my brain, that believed that someone would see me and love me.  In that moment of  profound comprehension I knew I only had my personality to rely on.  It was extremely heartbreaking to finally understand the truth of my situation, but at the same time extremely freeing.  The perceived slights from the male gender that commonly hurt me were just that "perceived". 

Being repulsive to a majority of the population has affected my behaviour.  I am very sad to have missed out on the normal interaction of human life.  I try with those that can accept me, but when it comes to the opposite sex I have absolutely no experience.  I do understand and accept that a lot of it is my fault.  It is what I beret myself with nearly everyday.  My weight has not been the only problem, it is just the easiest reason to blame for my complete lack in making Friends. I really have tried with all my intelligence to figure out my social problems.  Does this give me a low opinion of myself? Surprisingly, no.  I like who I am.  How many people do you know can say that?  Beautiful or otherwise.  I have always believed with every fiber of my being that I am a really cool person. That may sound prideful, but since I am the only one who seems to realizes it(except a select few), then I am going to say it.

I have managed to have my own failures and triumphs, despite my disadvantages.  I just am not public with such things.  I figure if you, dear reader, took the time to click on this post and read then you are interested in what I have to say.  In person I have to feel the same interest aim at me to talk and that doesn't happen very often.

I understand that we all have our disadvantages.  That has been a very hard lesson to learn.  You can see my weak spot in life, but I have come to comprehend that the most beautiful person in the world can be hampered by their beauty.  I fought to find my place in the world.  I still don't feel comfortable, but I have never hated myself.  I hate my weight, but I never felt it defined me or who I was even though I have spent my life being judged by the stereotypes of the obese.  I am judged as someone who spends there life eating, someone who has no control.  I am seen as repulsive.  That is pretty hard to overcome.

I guess I should have some sobering words about how we all must be kind and other such blah, blah, blah. That would be great if we "could all just get along", but I have looked at the reality. I understand being repulsed. I get that feeling. I don't care if you feel that way about me.  Just keep your big mouth shut!  I don't want to be reminded of something I am perfectly aware of.  And one more thing, DO TELL those people around you that they are pretty.  It helps a woman immeasurable.


This is where I started.  I want you
to know when I look at myself in the
pictures on the post.  I think I am gorgeous! 
Isn't it funny how different our perspectives can be?