One morning last month, I was waltzing about the house, getting ready to leave for work, I was feeling a bit full of myself because I had on a dress that I had bought years ago to wear when I lost weight. And I didn't even need to squeeze into shape wear for it to look good.
And then I fell. Hard. My right knee was a lovely shade of purple for a week or two. I sat on my kitchen floor for a bit longer than I should, feeling sorry for myself, because my knee hurt. I was embarrassed. I felt foolish.
Then I got myself off the ground, dusted myself off and went on to start my day.
Fascinating, I know.
However, I share this little tidbit about how that day started off because of one reason. I got up. I did not stay on that floor feeling sorry for myself.
I made the choice to move past my fall.
This was not the first time I've fallen. Nor will it be the last.
This was one of the few times I didn't allow myself to dwell in self pity. I didn't allow shame to wash over me.
These days, it's hard to know how I feel about myself most of the time.
I can go from thinking I'm amazing to wondering why on Earth I can't get it together. I am confident however that I am not alone in this thinking.
The other day, I got involved in a discussion over the internet on Eleanor Roosevelt, which reminded me of just how complicated my relationship with myself can be. It all started with how a friend was posting about how every single children's biography of her starts off by talking about how Eleanor Roosevelt was not pretty.
Yes, it is upsetting to read that to start off books meant for children.
Yet, our society, particularly American society, places way too much value on appearance.
So, as upsetting as it may be, it doesn't surprise me that biographies of Eleanor Roosevelt mention her lack of physical beauty. She is not the only famous woman whose lack of physical beauty is touted in biographies.
A woman could cure cancer, but if she does not look like a supermodel, her homeliness will be mentioned and brought up indefinitely, as it is amazing that an unattractive woman could achieve anything in life.
I say this so definitively because I know all too well the perils of not being considered pretty.
As someone who is not considered conventionally attractive, but has a long list of accomplishments to my name, on a daily basis I get irritated that I'm judged on my lack of physical beauty.
It is wrong that women who don't look like the status quo are told they they have to overcome this hardship in life. As if being unattractive is as big of a cross to bear as a true physical disability, such as blindness or deafness. Or growing up in poverty.
However, I am quite sure that Eleanor Roosevelt became the woman she did because of the fact that she was considered plain.
Because those of us who are told that we aren't good enough because our hair isn't blonde or because our skin isn't clear or because we are overweight, those of us who are broken by society by the time we turn 18, we are the ones who work hard to overcompensate.
And that can be a beautiful thing.
Or it can can be hideous.
We fight to be seen for more than our appearance. We become writers, artists, athletes, etc. We find what we are good at and work hard to excel. We do what we can to make up for blending into a crowd physically, because we, or at least I, wanted to be seen.
So if Eleanor Roosevelt was considered a great beauty, would we know her today as we do?
If I had been told I was pretty instead of made fun of my entire life, would I be who I am today?
Chances are no.
The funny thing is, today, I came across pictures of me when I was in the 8th grade.
Looking at those pictures, I tried to figure out what it was that made me the target of so much bullying.
As I certainly wasn't as fat as people made me think I was. I was not some hideous hag of a girl. I dare say that I was a cute girl.
But no one ever told me that. So it took me looking at pictures 24 years later to realize that I was not as ugly or fat as I was led to believe those days.
I have to wonder how different my life would have been if I had seen myself back in those days the way I truly was.
But I can't drive myself crazy by wondering what if over every moment of my past that defined who I am today.
As who I am today is pretty darn fabulous.
And I realize for that every person who looks at me and pities me because I am certainly no supermodel, I don't deserve their pity.
Everyone who looks at me and decides based on my physical appearance that I am not worthy of their time, that's their problem.
People who take the time to truly get to know me understand that I am so much more than my plain appearance. And I dare say, some of them even find me beautiful once they see all of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment