Daily Archives: January 9, 2013

The ugly truth

I’ve put this off – taking people’s feelings into consideration. But it’s time.

I felt brave this week – wearing the brighter lipstick, the eye makeup. As a rule, I only wear rice powder, light mascara a little color on my cheeks and a swipe of lipstick.

I wanted to try something different.

I even wore a beautiful large necklace on Monday – I felt like I had a neon sign over my head ‘LOOK!’

Please don’t look I was saying on the inside.

I’ve been told, and I know that by societies standards, I’m pretty. I don’t consider myself beautiful – but I had nothing to do with my genes and it is a fact, I am not ugly.

Besides not liking to wear makeup, I can’t wear necklaces with earrings at the same time and vice versa.

I can’t wear clothes that draw attention to myself. (Someone complimented me on a particular outfit – that someone was male. I haven’t worn it since).

I don’t want to be looked at for my outside appearance.

I don’t want you to tell me I’m pretty.

Pretty hasn’t served me well.

Pretty has littered my life with ugly.

I have been molested, I have been raped. Multiple times. I have been disrespected, I have been leered at.

I want my soul to be seen. My soul is pretty.

I want my mind to be seen. It is sharp and full of interesting things.

I want my deeds to be felt – my abilities recognized.

I want my heart to be heard beating – maybe that’s why I have tachycardia … maybe it’s trying extra hard?

I want to one day, be in a relationship and not cringe at a touch. To be able to be told I’m pretty and glow with appreciation.

I’ve forgiven the many men who have hurt me. I have forgiven myself for the promiscuity bred from being taught that was love.

But nurture has made more of an impression on my psyche than nature.

I will heal. I will. I have come so far.

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Tags: beauty, forgiveness, healing, molestation, nature vs nurture, pretty, rape

More to me

Jan 9

Posted by debaucherysoup

Rough night last night. Two stubborn people in one house – no give. No goodnight hugs.

Woke up this morning determined. Deciding to have a good day.

I’ve been swiping some mascara on my lashes of late – and sporting a brighter colored lipstick to work. It’s almost embarrassing how much of a difference that apparently makes as I’ve received a lot of compliments. I don’t like it. I wanted to feel brighter – but not be looked at. Silly.

I’m a complicated chick.

I was listening this morning to Jai Ho in my car. (From the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack). Okay, I was blasting Jai Ho and thinking – ‘there is more to me’. I’ve BEEN to Bombay (Mumbai in the movie) – I was in Goa and New Delhi and Old Delhi. I’ve experienced more in one lifetime, I can safely say, than probably 95% of the people I know.

I’ve laid eyes on the Mona Lisa (a tad disappointing … did you know it’s quite small?) I’ve gazed up at the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Breathtaking. I’ve almost been sold in Afghanistan and dined with men in Countries where females just don’t DO that.

And today – I’m driving to work in the car I worry about making payments on, in a desert I never wanted to live in, but feeling a little brighter.

The music reminded me of something odd I would do as a child.

On road trips I’d have my head leaned against the back seat window and whatever song was on the radio was my theme song. I pretended I was in a movie – it was the closing shot. My reflection – the passing scenery … My imagination has got me through a lot of things. Unwavering. A constant.

I cried at work today. I had a bad moment and felt hopeless and unvalued and discounted, and without any warning, alone staring at my monitor – I cried.

I felt bled of my color and left grey.