Ugly

i remember being seven years old, almost eight, and looking down at my busted knee and letting my eyes travel upwards
up and up they went until i noticed something off.
i was sitting at a desk, three others by mine to form a square. i looked down and to my left and then it hit me.
i was fat. my thighs were larger than everyone else’s, and so was my stomach.
i went home that day, determined to change myself. needless to say, it didn’t work. but did that make me ugly?

i remember being eleven years old and hearing the whispers.
“she’s so large”
“how did she get like this”
“fat fat fat FAT”
i looked at everyone else and compared myself to them. sure, they were smaller than me, but that didn’t mean i was as large as everyone thought i was. did that make me ugly?

i remember being twelve and speaking with my grandmother. she said i would never find a boy if i didn’t thin down, and if i lost weight she would buy me a whole new wardrobe. before school started she took me to buy makeup, so i could look
p r e s e n t a b l e. i was drowning in eyeliner and coverup and mascara. i was a mess. but did that make me ugly?

i remember being thirteen and thinking people had matured. i thought wrong. i received stares and gasps in the hallway, and jokes made about me behind closed doors. i weighed too much, my hair was too frizzy, and my pant size was too big. but did that make me ugly?

i remember being thirteen and taking a blade to my wrist.
“emo”
"faggot”
“die”
“slut”
“fatass"
“no one likes you”
“not good enough, never will be good enough, nothing you ever do will be good enough"
“ugly”
Ugly.
what made me ugly? my weight or acne or hair or glasses or my then-crooked teeth?

i remember being fourteen and afraid to look in the mirror because i could only see imperfections. i was too fat and too tall and too dorky and i DEFINITELY didn’t want to have to be blinded by my own reflection. did that make me ugly?

i remember being fourteen and not giving a shit about anything. school, friends, even myself. i spiraled into a whirlwind of depression anxiety and an urge to escape from reality. did that make me ugly?

i remember being fourteen and unable to face the hell that i found in a building two miles from my own house. they said i was fine and that nothing was going on but i saw their stares. i saw their fingers pointing at me while they laughed. i saw the notes being passed around with gossip about how many hundreds of pounds i weighed that day.
i saw everything. did that make me ugly?

i remember being fifteen, and finally having the courage to look in a mirror.  i remember being revolted and investing immediately in more makeup to better myself for the sake of others, but it still wasn’t enough. i remember dying my hair and changing my clothes to try to just FIT IN.
I wanted to scream at whoever, whatever, was in earshot and ask why nothing i ever did was good enough.
“your grades are too low”
“your weight is too high”
“you’re too tall”
“you’re too weird”
i was everything i shouldn’t be and more. i was waiting for someone to come along and say “you’re prefect”, but it didn't. did that make me ugly?

no. none of that made me ugly.
what made me ugly was the society we live in telling me that everything i did was wrong, everything i wore was wrong, everything i so much as thought about was wrong.
what made me ugly was the girl that sat next to me in global studies texting her friend about how atrocious my jeans were.
what made me ugly was the boy that looked me over and told me that i couldn’t possibly row crew because i would sink the boat.
what made me ugly was NOT my physical features.
what made me ugly was letting everyone else’s standards of perfection somehow effect ME.

at the end of the day it’s all bullshit. you don’t need diet pills or new clothes or shoes or accessories or makeup or fake nails or spray tan. none of it.
you need to be happy and confident with what’s inside of you before others will realize that you are a god damn masterpiece. a king or queen, a bar of solid gold, a statue on a fucking pedestal.

you are not ugly. how could you be when your eyes light up when you talk about that one thing you’re passionate about? how could you be ugly when your smile is larger than life at even the mention of your favorite book or movie or game? tell me how you could be ugly when you are nothing shy of perfection.