Thursday, November 21, 2013

on beauty.

my roommate and i were in our beds the other night when
a car drove by blasting music. as it approached our building we
could also hear the playful screams of some girl driving along to the music,
sounding as though she was having the best time.

my roommate, such a sweet person {!}, quietly said something along the lines of
sometimes i wish i could be fun like that.

she laughed and then i laughed because often times i feel the exact same way.

in middle school i was the weird, ex-homeschooled kid that got the lead
role in the musical. getting that much attention as the new kid is basically a recipe for social disaster,
so i didn't make very many friends.
the following year {i was still as weird as ever} i was bullied relentlessly, to the point where my parents put me into a different school. 
i didn't even fit in at my new school but i was no longer the only freak, and i wasn't the only kid with personal issues, either. i was quiet and reserved, and i had some packed up resentment towards, what i felt was, the entire world. 
but i survived middle school -- like we all do --
and once high school rolled around i wasn't such a socially awkward person.

nonetheless {and not to bore you with my past social self} high school wasn't so bad.
i actually loved it.
but it was in high school that i realized just how different i was from everybody else.

the same group of girls that bullied me in middle school became the head cheerleaders in high school.
and the cool boys that liked them never liked me.
i can remember wearing petticoats and knee high socks to school while everyone else wore their tiny little jeans and juicy sweatshirts.

and before this post sounds way too high school,
let me just say that i have a point.

my point is that i realized early on that i'm not that girl screaming out the window of a car.
and, as my roommate might put it, sometimes i wish i was fun like that.

because chances are, i won't be screaming anything out of a car window,
though i have been known to sing songs to people while driving down the freeway.

the other day a friend of mine asked me so how are you going to keep your boyfriend interested if you don't dance for him?

i had to stop myself after this one.

wait what?

she then proceeded to tell me her theory that dancing shows that you know you're sexy and blah blah blah i hate using that word on this blog.

my only reply to my friend: well, then i guess i'm not sexy. 
and she gave me the oh, come on look.
the one where the person giving the look knows that what you've said is totally true.
because, i suppose in her version of things, what i said was totally true.

so then i spent the rest of my weekend referring back to memories of high school and whatnot 
where i didn't quite fit the mold, and i was awkward and okay with it...sort of...and when things felt so damn complicated but, in reality, really were simple.

nothing felt simple then.
and things still aren't simple.
but i realized something:

i grew up.

and it was in this epiphany that i found complete peace.
peace that my little fourteen year old self must have ignorantly attained from somewhere, somehow, 
because it got me through high school and to where i am now.

no, i am not, nor will i ever be, the girl screaming out of the car.
no, i will never be the girl in the middle of the dance floor bending over in ways i know my body just can't bend.
and, according to some, i suppose that means i will never be "sexy,"
which is truly an overrated term, thank you.

what i also told my friend: no, i'm not sexy i guess. i just read books.

i guess i was surprised that part of me wasn't hurt by the standard that was set.
i was shocked, really.
why didn't i care?

oh, but why should i care?

i'm at that weird in-between stage where you find yourself caring about some things
but mostly you begin to go unfazed. 
it's a great stage, actually.

quietly i have found that i like me.
and not in some narcissistic way, but in a self-respecting sense.

i don't have smooth, flirtatious words,
but i can quote some of the greatest writers.

i don't wear the shortest or the tightest clothes,
but i love the feeling of over sized sweaters and boyfriend jeans,
and things that just feel warm and welcoming.

i can't for the life of me tell you where this weekend's biggest party is,
but i can tell you a few wonderful places to travel and some quirky places to grab a
good cup of coffee or a substantial meal. 

i'm not the girl in the middle of the group with all of the latest news on so-and-so or such-and-such,
but i've acquired countless stories of people and places and beautiful things.

i will never put myself front and center to get your attention, but i'm sure as hell sitting in the back, taking in this whole life thing and completely enthralled by the lives of those i love.

i know for a fact that i will never be the skinniest
or the prettiest
of the fittest
or remotely charming and alluring.

but these are all just words that anyone can use for anything at all.
and, i don't want to be categorized by something generic.

i've always admired the fun girl,
but i know for a fact that she's not having fun all of the time,
nor is fun a great word to be summed up by.

so i'll continue to pick my tea over alcohol,
early mornings over late nights,
books over dancing,
and knee high socks over sky high heels.

and my hair will always be disheveled,
and my glasses a bit too big.
my hands will always find themselves to be stained with ink,
and i will forever hoard cereal and chocolate in my closet. 
my words will never be smooth, 
and i will never be able to tell you where to be on a saturday.

but i sure as hell love a good hardy laugh, people with substance, a quick wit, and some big dreams.

all of these things are beautiful aspects of people and the lives they lead.


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