I have anxiety. When I was younger, entering a salon or any unfamiliar places for the first time kills me. Sometimes I prolong the agony by thinking for hours before entering or I just cancel the plan altogether and postpone it the next time with a friend. It's one of the reasons why I cut and color my hair by myself.
When I got older though, I learned the art of not giving a fuck, so whether I am alone or with a friend and anxiety hits me, I can still confidently go inside and casually ask for their services and prices. (But I still avoid high-end stores because I look so plain for such luxury. Of course I know it's wrong to think so.)
Today, I am with my cousin in a salon to have her hair rebonded for the first time. I believe this is her first time entering a salon as well, so I suggested that I'd come with her. Surrounded by confident ladies, I can't help but remember my own insecurities. Physical ones.
I am insecure with how my extra weight rolls and folds which accentuates my small stature. I am vertically challenged. Almost a 5 footer, I've been told again and again that nobody would like me because I look too fat for my own good; as if it takes away the fact that I have something else to offer like being a great listener and empathiser.
I am insecure of my nose that looks like a tomato. That's what my family said. It's funny that sometimes you get those degrading comments from people who should be making you a bit more confident in this world with crazy standards and ideals.
I am insecure of my dark nipples. My friends would tell me, "Does it makes sense that you're quite fair yet your nips are dark chocolates?" Did I do something wrong? Does it make me filthy and unattractive? I am very aware that people are different, but that doesn't get into their brains because I am fair-skinned with dark nipples. How come.
I am insecure of my hair that's very impossible to tame. It's always unpredictable and it doesn't frame my face correctly. Not to mention that I got dandruff from being so stressed all the time. Very not feminine, they said. My hair is nothing but hair. I can shave all I want and I would still be the same person. Right? Right.
It's funny.
Growing up, I've had a number of guys liking me. Apparently, I lost that attractiveness when I gained so much weight. From 50 kg to almost 70 kg, they said I no longer look pretty. Said by guys who used to really like me a lot but didn't make it! 🤷♀️
One, I don't want to be called pretty. Pretty is not pretty. I'd rather be called compassionate, kind, etcetera; something that doesn't revolve around physical attributes alone. Don't get me wrong though, I like getting compliments from time to time, but I no longer crave for it. I am passed that stage where getting praises boosts your ego. Nope. Not anymore.
What makes me happy is having great conversations about ideas and dreams and vulnerabilities of humans. What makes me kilig is hearing people talk about my art and writings and photographs, that it inspires and motivates them. Physical beauty can wait. I'd like to know I have gained wisdom over the years, and that my flaws are beautiful, too.
How about you? What are your insecurities? Does it make you anxious as well? Does it hurt you? Let's talk. I am very willing to listen.
You are beautiful inside and out!
Cheers,
@olaivart