For When You Feel Ugly

[Author’s note: so recently I’ve been having really bad esteem issues, and it was hampering my efforts in productivity. Thus, this. Sorry, readers, recently my posts have been very personal. I’ll write about my Maculot Clean-Up Climb experience soon!]

17 October, 2014, over a bottle of wine.

Hey, Joy.

Chin up.

There will be more days like this, I can assure you. Days when all you’d want to do is shy away from the world because the world’s supposed to be beautiful and your presence diminishes its beauty. When you believe that the world was not made for people like you because trash has no place in it. Not trash that breathes, not trash that moves, not trash that lives. Not trash like you. Or so you think.

There will be more days like this. Days when you’d rather be invisible. When you hope that people would just leave you alone and not bother to ask why you’re down or why you’re quiet or why you’re suddenly tearing up or why the number of self-deprecating remarks you’re making are increasing because there’s nothing they can do anyway because they don’t know why. You don’t know why either. You just feel ugly. Inconsequential. Gross. Unwanted. Because you are ugly-inconsequential-gross-and-unwanted. Or so you think.

More days like today. When the first thing you’d think about upon waking up is the number of hours it would take before you’d fall asleep again. When you dread looking at the mirror because you fear the fact that the mirror won’t lie. That it would show you, you. And that you won’t like what you’ll see. You’ll be too oily, too hairy, too porous, your hair too dry, your lips too thin, your nose too large. You will think it unfair because while the rest of the world is perfect and in its proper place, you’re not. While the rest of the world is smiling with their perfect smiles, you’re cowering. While the rest of the world is trying to lift your spirits up, you’re telling yourself they shouldn’t. Because you don’t deserve their kindness or their pity or their empathy or their humanity. Or so you think.

Or so you think.

On days like today, remember to stop being so afraid. Or angry. Or jealous. Remember that the world does not revolve around you, but while it does not, remember that a part of its light – a tiny speck – will falter, because one of its elements is not shining as brightly as it’s meant to. You’re a part of this world, and no matter how minuscule you may feel, your life is not limited to a singularity. You’re much, much more. And people look to you. And people are genuine when they tell you to cheer up. And people are happy when you are. And people don’t think you’re ugly.

And I know, you’ll say it doesn’t matter because can’t I feel ugly for today and that I won’t feel ugly tomorrow and shouldn’t it be fine because I’m not normally narcissistic anyway and can I be given today today today? And I’ll tell you it’s fine because it is. You can feel gross as hell today, or you can feel out of it. You can feel icky or stupid or undesirable.

But remember this: you can never say you’re not beautiful. Because you’re never not beautiful.

And if you remember this, then all those things you think about yourself won’t seem to matter as much anymore. When you remember what you are, then you’re going to do things that will make people remember as well.

If you sulk and you grumble and you perpetually scowl; if you scream and you sneer and you eternally frown; if you wish your body didn’t have too much bone or too much fat or too much muscle or too much or too little of things you wish you had or didn’t have, then you will – as an obvious consequence – continue to wallow in pity.

But if you remember…

If you would only remember how your smile can brighten up someone’s day, or how your personal words of motivation can keep someone going, or how your ability to listen makes people realize that their voices do not simply fill a void, then you will be, then things will be – as they have always been – fine.

You’re never not beautiful.

Sure, you may lack a few things in the physical department. You may have scars: visible or otherwise. You might have demons that keep you up at night which keep you on your toes, always ready to strike as soon as you let your defenses down. This does not mean at all that your defenses should be perpetually kept up. Let this not confuse you. This means that it’s okay to be vulnerable. But also, and more importantly, it’s okay to fight. The demons, the insecurities, the doubt, what have you. Fight them all. With grace, of course. Battle insecurity with confidence, doubt with self-trust, demons with perseverance and the strength of knowing that you’ll get through anything.

You’re never not beautiful.

And if, in the morning, such is your belief, then read this. Read this over and over and over. And then, when it is still not enough to make you remember. Read this again. Read this until you learn to understand that beauty is much more than physical perfection. It’s about outward experience. When you can make people laugh, when you can lift someone’s mood up, when you understand that being nice weighs much more heavily on the scale of life than looking nice, when you make time for people, even – well, especially – to those who you’re sure will probably not be able to do the same for you, then you’re beautiful.

It’s beauty that stays in people’s heads, in people’s hearts. It’s beauty manifested in a helping hand, in a reassuring smile, in a pat on the back, in a quiet whisper of “I’m here,” in a simple message of “What’s up?”

You’re never not beautiful.

And people will say you are. Ugly, I mean. The world will push to you photos of people who are supposedly beautiful. Who have flawless skin and blindingly white teeth. Whose noses can cut through paper and whose chins are so chiseled they can be mistaken for wax figures. Some people will be less conspicuous. They will walk with you on the street and remark at how someone is so beautiful for having legs that go on for miles and hair that could make shampoo creators redefine their brand.

You will glimpse yourself in the window of a store and you will realize that you do not meet their standards of beauty.

But even so, know this: you’re never not beautiful.

And when you know so, then you’re already on your way to becoming more beautiful than ever.

You’re beautiful. Let no one tell you otherwise.

Love, yourself.

P.S. You weren’t named “Beautiful” for nothing. You’ll say it’s in Arabic and that it doesn’t matter because people don’t know anyway, and I say: it’s precisely because it’s in a foreign language that you should appreciate it more. Let people find your beauty. Live life so as to allow them to do so.