Why Can't You See I'm Ugly? - BYOB and A Shot For Me
Sup Y’all.
Welcome back to another episode of BYOB and I am your host, Akayla.
Today, we’re drinking Oaf Leak Moscato (Stolen from Le Mom’s private collection)
It’s been a minute since we had a BYOB episode because so many new things are happening and I haven’t really had the chance to focus on things that are personal to me, other than my feeble attempts at writing lol. Also Corona-Virus is kicking our butts right now, so we’re all locked in quarantine and I’ve been gifted more time alone with my thoughts. (yay)
This post will be a little different because I am not necessarily angry, just mildly upset.
I am just gonna be completely honest because I feel pathetic for even discussing this with you guys.
Today, I want to talk about self-esteem and the lack thereof.
For those who don’t know me well, I am a textbook “funny friend”. All those memes showcasing a clown laughing even though they are crying inside are me to a T. This is not always the case, sometimes I am genuinely happy to be making my friends and family laugh.
However, I do use humor as my armor like many of you. I hold myself to a higher standard than I hold my friends and family to. If I get a B and my friend gets a C, I am more likely to bash myself for getting the B and praise my friend for getting the C because I believe I should have gotten an A. As for my friend, I am just happy they did the best they could do with the tools that they had.
I’m just sick like that. I’m working on it.
This mentality stretches from school and personal performance to physical appearance.
I have always felt less beautiful than the people around me. My mother, my cousins, and my friends. I constantly compare myself to them and mentally pick at our differences.
“My skin is trash.”
“My booty is flatter than hers.”
“I’m not thick enough. “ or “I’m too big.”
“My face is misshapen.”
I could literally go on for hours.
Most days, I can overcome this. I can look head on in the mirror and acknowledge that there is some kind of beauty radiating from my face. I know I’m not conventionally attractive and I am ok with that.
I don’t think I’m the hottest thing out but I know that I am not that hard to look at. Which I realize isn’t much better when I type it out and read it back, but it’s my reality.
I have tricked myself into thinking I am less worthy because of the color of my skin, the size of my body and even the structure of my face. Countless family members, friends, and love interests have pleaded with me to accept my beauty but my empirical nature has been warped.
How can I accept what I do not see?
When someone compliments me, I retort that “they’re only saying that because they like me as a person”.
I think somehow my glowing personality has fooled them into thinking that I am pretty.
Pretty pathetic, if you ask me.
There are days when I look in the mirror and do not even see me. I see a human. I see a woman but I am just a being. Not beautiful nor ugly. Believe it or not this is progress. It is a vast improvement from trying to figure out how someone as beautiful as my mother gave birth to a gremlin.
No cap though lol. When I was younger, I looked in the mirror and I actually thought I looked like a gremlin.
This was just internalized colorism rearing it's disgusting head. Thankfully, I’ve moved past these damaging self-imposed criticisms. Carrying that kind of mental weight is exhausting and I am tired enough as is.
I thought my perfectly proportioned teenage body was fat. (I was a damn fool.)
Unfortunately, there is no happy ending to this BYOB yet.
I fight to remind myself that I am pretty despite the things I feel that I am lacking but I cannot fully accept it.
I am not going to lie and say that I love every inch of my face and body each day. There are days when I practice self affirmations to remind myself of all the awesome things my body can do and how this is a temple that God gave me.
I believe God placed me on Earth intentionally. I believe that He created me in the way that I was meant to look. Of course, my overall physical health is largely in my hands and I am not going to blame God for making me ugly. He really thought He did THAT when he made me.
See Psalms 139:14
I am not sure that I agree with Him in that regard but I am trying. I’m trying. At the present moment, it feels like no matter how many pretty flowers I tattoo on my body, negative thoughts keep pushing through. Marching up and down on the runway of my mind.
I hope one day to see myself how God see me. I hope one day to love myself like I love others.
