I want to have a public medical crisis
When a pretty girl faints in public, it’s almost like her tragic beauty caused her to faint because she is too good and pure for this world. When an ugly person faints in public, it’s because she’s ugly and she deserves it.
That is, that is until the medical crisis is not just fainting. She faints and she won’t stand up. For once her body is cold. She frightens people now because they are afraid for her, not because they subconsciously believe they will catch her ugliness.
They wheel the ugly girl off to a hospital where people are concerned about her. They are finally interested in her, not just scorning her for being ugly.
Even what pinterest shows you when you search "ugliness" is an otherwise charming fae creature. Earthly ugliness is so hated that it is almost unobservable.
An epiphany! This poor poor girl! She has been suffering under the yoke of a horrible disfiguring illness for years, maybe her whole entire life. She was a pretty girl all along, trapped in the body of a hideous, deformed, fat, hairy beast! Oh me, oh my!
And then they fix her. A pill. Treatments. It’s like that episode of House MD with the girl with Cushing’s syndrome. She’s sympathetic because she’s fat and ugly for medical reasons, not because she was born an aesthetic Dalit.
Everyone likes her, now. She recovers from her abuse because the abuse happened to a body that no longer exists: a diseased, abused, reprobate body. It’s like it happened in another world.
I almost fainted while welcoming my class on their first day today. We were outside and I was sweating so much it was literally dripping off my hands and down my shirt. I was about to fall over when a parent asked me for directions and then said I looked terrible.
I did look terrible. I knew if I just let myself go, I would probably get right back up. It would just be embarrassing, because I’m not pretty enough. And I fear my fantasy is just that, a fantasy; the fantasy of an ugly person, cursed with disease, not despite myself but because of it.
My intrinsically poor-quality soul causes my ugliness which causes my medical problems which all cause each other. I could seize while talking about the past participle form and the doctors would conclude this is just what I get.
