A girl like me grows up feeling ugly, though the people around her constantly tell her how beautiful and valuable she is. I couldn’t see it myself, for the longest time I couldn’t see it. Then I decided to drop the beautiful bit and focus on my value. I decided beautiful actually meant something else… something more. And that the more valuable parts of me were my heart, mind, and will. People didn’t have to tell me this story anymore. I believed it, and I was happy. I believed a good person could love me for who I am. Dare I say it? I even started to believe I actually was pretty. I saw the girl in the mirror and thought, “You are beautiful enough, and valuable beyond diamonds.”
And so I went along, happy with myself. Not lifted up above others, no, but proud that I’d finally ‘seen’ the beauty I’d missed all these years. I even blogged about real beauty. And spoke to other women about it. And on I went. The one who debunked my little myth was only being honest and saying what other men dare not tell. He was a friend who loved me for who I am, but I could never love me ‘like that’ because of how I look. I say ‘was a friend’, because I was so hurt I pushed him away. And now I’m alone and emotionally stark naked.
I don’t know what to do.
