He asked me how
You ask me how is it that I don't like myself, it's simple... I'm not beautiful, I don't find myself attractive, I'm not as thin or athletic as before, my skin isn't the best, my teeth aren't straight, im sloppy, not cute.. I told you that when I look in the mirror I get annoyed with myself... I wasn't kidding. I meant it when I said I get mad just looking at myself, I'm not as pretty as my sister or my cousins or any of my friends really... You ask how is it... How is it, I've grown up never being picked first, always getting picked on for wearing glasses, never really had a stable group of friends, being the other girl, not the main girl, I've never really been acknowledged for anything. Truth is I want to be beautiful but when you grow up in a world where you see girls being adored and you ask yourself what's wrong with me because you don't see the same results in your own life, that's when it gets to you in your head, I'm not blaming society on how they see beauty, I just blame myself for letting this state of mind engrave itself into me since the 1st grade. It may sound silly but I still remember recognizing that I wasn't the pretty one in the class, I was just there, so that's how I am now, no matter how hard I try, and loud I can be, how hard I run, how hard I try not to eat, how much make up I put on, how I wear contacts as long as possible, how I try to hide my emotions toward myself... Don't get me wrong... At one point I did think I was pretty, but then I realized I'll never be as pretty as the next girl, no matter what circumstances there are I just don't see it in myself. You say you know I'm beautiful, sometimes I wish I could see what you really see, just to see if you really do see beauty
