There are the girls on social media who seem effortlessly pretty. There are girls who can “hashtag” no makeup or no filter and make your heart drop and flutter simultaneously. It doesn’t seem fair, but that’s because it isn’t. Genetics is biological roulette, and the gamble leaves us wondering how one sibling looks so amazing while the other is so plain.
I’ve had several people compliment my looks on social media and in person. Typically, I am incredibly made up. It’s not that people don’t compliment me plain-faced, it’s just that I wouldn’t know, because I rarely embrace society when completely bare. When I was younger, I wasn’t the girl that caught any boy’s attention. Actually, I was stereotypically “boyish” for most of my childhood and didn’t develop in-school crushes like other girls my age.
As adolescence creeped, oozed from my endocrine system, I became more aware of boys and what they thought of me. My long blonde-haired, blue-eyed friends caught the attention of most. They were tan, and they knew what to say, even as young as 13. I was clueless. My sister had just enrolled in tiny-town cosmetology school and used my mom and I as guinea pigs. My thick, frizzy brunette locks ended at my chin and shielded my skull like an over-sized helmet. Boys talked to me, but only because I knew cool things about Pokémon and Star Wars, and I was always the first girl picked at kickball.
When puberty crowded my development, I started noticing that boys began taking an interest to me in other ways. I was passed notes in class containing the heart-pounding question, “who are you sitting with at lunch?” It was a very exciting and confusing time in my life.
Whereas pretty comes easy for some girls, it never came naturally for me. I was always foremost awkward and strange. Maybe that’s how most girls feel, but I wouldn’t know because I’ve never had an open conversation with anyone else about it. Humans are interesting creatures in that the females compete with each other just as much if not more than males do. We are the peacocks with evergreen tail feathers extended and the boys gather around us and assign “likes” on Instagram. Maybe we all feel that disconnect between who we are and who we portray ourselves to be. Again, I can only speak from personal experience. There are worse fates. I realize that. I have bigger things to complain about, trust me but consider this an open door to an honest conversation about how we all appear to each other. I’d like to think this article may help someone realize that we all look in a mirror and question ourselves, no matter how perfect our selfie appears to others. As a girl for who pretty doesn’t easy, here are the daily physical struggles in my life:
Cystic acne hurts more than my self esteem
Right beneath my non-existent jawline is a never-ending pool of cystic acne. Essentially, it’s acne that grows on top of acne that subsequently never develops a head to expel whatever biohazard is inside. It spreads like disease, too. Every morning I wake up, another bump has attached itself to one already in existence. What’s even more terrifying to me is that my acne is symmetrical. If a bump appears on the left side of my face, tomorrow an identical bump will adorn the right side. It makes me think some evil homunculus inhabits my skin and makes a living off making me miserable. In any case, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I tell myself not to look in the mirror, but it doesn’t matter when your skin is pounding every second of the day. I know it’s there. I feel it pulsate. I don’t like going in public without layers of full coverage foundation because I see where your attention goes in close conversation. Your eyes dart directly to my jawline, and I lose my train of thought.
Snow White wouldn’t be “hot” today
Pale skin is out. It’s been out for a long time. No matter how many PSA’s are released about the danger of sun exposure, people will still tan because people look better tanned. I could just go to the tanning bed, and gather some melanin. Hell, it would probably help my acne. The thing is, I’m Irish. I’m as Caucasian as they come without being full-blown ginger. I don’t burn like a red head, but I just don’t tan. I’ve wasted hundreds on tanning packages just to get two shades darker than Casper’s girlfriend. I’ve decided to stop wasting money on it. I use Jergen’s self-tanning lotion, and on a good day, you can’t notice the streaking. It’s also the only way I can buy foundation in my skin shade.
Jawlines are really, really helpful in the looks department
Go look at pictures of models. Look at their angles and notice the sharp contour of their faces. Jawlines make being pretty a million times easier. Unfortunately, neither of my parents had one so the chances of me developing one were slim. Spoiler alert: I didn’t draw that card from the gene pool. I know my angles well enough to fake it, but my tagged photos are a different story. Mentally, in conversations I try to abstain from turning profile. I’m also still mastering the art of highlighting and contouring which helps a lot, but only smothers my acne further.
Eating right and working out sucks
Some people (my fiancé) can literally never work out and eat nothing but chips and candy all day long and naturally sport a six-pack. He also has a natural tan and a jawline sans acne, so sometimes I hate him, but at least our future kids will have a snowball’s chance. Anyway, I’m not nearly that blessed. I count calories on everything I eat, every day. It’s the only way that I’m remotely good at math. A twelve minute internal monologue over why I shouldn’t eat that cupcake is exhausting, but not as exhausting as three plus gym days of cardio and strength training. I can’t get to the gym more because I work doubles three days a week, and I would like to have some sort of social life, as well. The guilt of missing a gym day can be just as exhausting as leg day though, I promise you.
There are several other daily struggles but these are the big ones. It doesn’t come easy, it never has and I think it’s time we take a hard look at the people we create on social media. Keeping certain images festers anxiety, and I for one am tired of lying about what I deal with for the sake of a few likes on a well-positioned selfie.
