I can’t help that I have a baby face or that I may not look as old as I really am. But I’m still a human being inside who has feelings. Those ‘harmless’ jokes hit a lot deeper down in my heart. They left scars that cannot be erased. They have impacted my life a whole lot more than you could ever imagine. Those stupid little criticisms are more than that. They are critiquing who I am as seen by others.

I was never a confident child. All through my life I was striving to be the best. I was, and still am, a perfectionist. I didn’t choose that life path, it came to me through my interactions with others. I was picked on and indirectly bullied and pressured into things to ‘fit in’. As I’ve grown older I am now a perfectionist in the fact that I procrastinate and then put myself down for not getting the 100%. Not having straight A’s seem like a disgrace to me; something that lowered my worth as a person.

I never truly express myself. I don’t even know who the real me is anymore. My life revolves around fitting into the standards everyone has. I dress like others, I talk like others, I take the classes others take; and still, I don’t fit in.

I really began taking it hard on myself as soon as I entered middle school. It all began with the truth that comes out when you are alone with your friends. They all talked about having a boyfriend that loved them for who they were. Yes, they were young but they cared for each other. That’s what I longed to have. I would sit there silently, listening to them discuss this while never having experience to discuss. I finally found someone who loves me for who I am entering sophomore year of high school.

My life took a major turn right when sophomore year started. I had grown my hair out for 2 years. It grows relatively fast so I love donating it to make wigs for kids who have cancer. But I was sick of my long hair; at least that’s what I told everyone else. After making a PSA in 9th grade, having a small role in acting, I saw myself like others do. At least the way I think. I don’t have the cute waves everyone else has. I don’t have the cute highlights or the perfectly angled haircut. Then entering 10th grade, someone said something that they didn’t realized affected me this much.

“You look like a 10 year old.”

“Why?”

“Because you have a little braid in your hair and purple eyeshadow on.”

What has this world become to? Can’t we just do what we want? Since when does having a braid in your hair and purple eyeshadow on brand you a 10 year old?

This changed me, forever.

That day, the class period after that was said to me, I went to the bathroom. I removed the braid, making the excuse that the hair tie broke. I tried wiping off the majority of the eyeshadow so that all that remained was mascara. Then I began my internet search. ‘How To Look Older With A Babyface’.

This search couldn’t have changed me more. The results were the changing factor. Don’t wear tennis shoes; they give the appearance of a middle schooler. Don’t wear loose fitting graphic clothes; they give the appearance of an immature person. Cut Your Hair. To gain an older appearance, short hair is seen as a key factor to achieve that. Wear Makeup. As much as people say you don’t need makeup to be beautiful, it gives the image of maturity.

That weekend I made the ultimate decision to cut my hair. 14 inches later, it was in the bag in the mailbox for kids with cancer. I was so proud. Giving my hair for a cause, cutting it just above shoulder length to look older; I couldn’t be happier. But that sensation only lasted for a couple days. Having a brand new haircut gave me confidence, knowing that the way other people viewed me would change. I thought they would change positively, but they didn’t. I had my whole outfit picked out days before with things I wouldn’t normally wear. But the way their views would change, didn’t change the way I wanted them too. 

I walked into school, greeted by the, “wow, you look great”. But the truth comes out.

“You know, that haircut makes you look even younger now.”

“You look like a little kid.”

Throughout the rest of the day, I was self-conscious of being viewed as a little kid. I wanted to go home and cry. Nobody really made nice comments about it, accounting for the drastic change that it was. Once home, I went to the mirror and cried. A real cry knowing that I couldn’t just glue my hair back on. I also began wearing a darker colored eyeshadow, everyday, to make sure you could tell I was actually wearing makeup. It’s hard thinking you look good only to have others tell you you aren’t. I shouldn’t listen to them. But society has told me to and I believe their opinions over mine. I no longer wear tennis shoes to school. I am trying to dress the same as everyone else style wise and act more mature. But inside, I only feel excluded either way. I’m not me anymore, I am the person everyone wants me to be. That, is all. It’s got one problem. It’s unattainable. Knowing that there is ALWAYS someone prettier, ALWAYS someone stronger, ALWAYS someone smarter; it’s degrading on me. 

I wish I was the person that is herself and expresses who she wants to be. But I will NEVER be that person. I will always follow society's guidelines. I will always please others. I will never truly feel comfortable in my body. This has continually happened all through my grade school career.  

Being only 5 foot, I am fairly small. All through middle school being told, “what do you mean? She can eat whatever. Look how perfectly skinny she is,” had the most impact on my life. I am NOT comfortable in my body. I don’t have a good body image. All because of that one phrase. I am older now, and a little taller, but I gained a little weight. I still look like that skinny person, only because I suck in a little bit of stomach everyday to attain the skinny I want. I have realized running track has the underlying need to get skinny. I have tried and cannot grasp the perfectly skinny person I used to be called, no matter how hard I try. I constantly look in the mirror to see how skinny my stomach is and realize it isn’t. It is most likely healthy weight, but I don’t have a flat stomach; in my views, that must mean I am fat.

I can’t help being hard on myself. After hearing this one really pretty girl, that has such a nice body, say she gained weight and needs to lose it again, made it even harder for me. I envied her, and to hear her saying that she has a little fat made me say to myself, “I have a lot more than that. I wish I could get rid of it like you and be as perfect as you”. I have never told her that. I compliment her all the time. I don’t think she realizes how much of an inspiration she is to me.

I wish I could be like the beautiful girls you see on popular magazines. To have the unrealistic bodies that they all have photoshopped. Would I be happier with THAT body. The unrealistic one that would only come unhealthily. I don’t know. Having someone love me for who I am is hard. I don’t deem myself worthy enough for them. Wanting to be the pretty skinny girl for them whether they want it or not. I can’t help who I’ve become. Envious of everyone, degrading myself and hating myself. I can’t find a way to love myself when no one has ever just accepted everything I have done as the true me. I tell people they are beautiful and gorgeous all the time. They just say thank you and continue on. How many people do you think said it back to me, actually meaning it?  How could my life change if one person would do that? Why do only boyfriends call you beautiful? Do they do it because they really believe it or do they find it a requirement? They say it, whether it’s true or not.

How hard could it be for one person, one person, to tell me I’m truly beautiful?