(Personal) Appearances Can Be Deceiving!

It's sad that we don't appreciate ourselves. When someone claims to be happy with their looks, we say that they are "full of themselves." Either that or we assume that they've had some plastic surgery done. Wouldn't it be great if we could all be full of ourselves? That is to say, happy with the way we look?

I often wonder what I'd do if makeup and hairspray were suddenly outlawed. I don't think I'd leave the house. I'd just order everything I needed online. I don't know what I'd do for work, but I'm sure I'd think of something. If I absolutely had to go somewhere I'd maybe buy a wig, but that would still leave the problem of my face.

Speaking of my face, it's really the only thing I totally hate about myself. I wonder what the statistics would be if you asked people which they hated more: their body or their face. I don't think I've ever complained that I look fat (then again, I've been blessed with good genes in that department.) In fact, the only part of myself that I am reasonably okay with is the size of my breasts. So in the body department I'm pretty satisfied. (Except for feet-I hate those. But then, I hate everyone's feet.)

It's just this face that gets me. I've got freckles and my eyes are too far apart. I've got this faint birthmark on my cheek that bugs the hell out of me even though no one else has ever commented on it. My ears are too big, my chin has a cleft (gross, unless you're a man) and my forehead is too white. Plus, I wear glasses. And thanks to the movies, everyone knows that a woman can't be truly beautiful unless she gets rid of her glasses!

I guess I should say that my whole head bothers me, as my hair has caused me the most misery throughout my life. It's naturally strawberry blonde, and of course no one can understand why I wouldn't be proud of it. "There are women who would KILL to have your natural hair color!" I wish I'd kept track of how often someone said that to me, because that would be a good figure to include here. Suffice it to say, the number is large. It just so happens that I'd kill to have naturally black hair, but I have to be content with dyeing it.

Ever since I was a small child I blamed my mother for my hair issues. I always asked her why she couldn't have married Uncle Bob instead so that I could have his black hair instead of this orange stuff I got from my dad. But even if she had married my uncle, there would still be a chance that I'd have ended up with red hair because it also runs in her family. By virtue of the Punnett Square, I've been able to calculate that, at the moment of conception, I beat three to one odds to end up a strawberry blonde. Hooray, right?

My fiancé asked me the other day who I would rather look like, since I'm so discontent with myself. I couldn't really come up with a definitive answer , as I honestly would rather look like pretty much anyone else! In the perfect world I'd look like Catherine Zeta-Jones, but I don't want to think too unrealistically. We are both of Welsh descent, but either she got lucky or I got gypped.

I think almost everyone wishes they looked like someone else, be it a friend or a celebrity or someone they see on the street. Why is it so hard to appreciate what you've got? Why can't we all look into the mirror and see ourselves as other people do? The answer may lie somewhere in our past, some old childhood insult that we've held onto for years. Maybe some of us have been in abusive relationships where we've been put down repeatedly. Some of us probably don't even know what started it.

It's awful to use what other people think of you to gage your self-esteem. After all, looks aren't everything. But sometimes, people who are generally thought of as attractive to others have the worst opinions of themselves. How does this happen? Personally, even though I know that the general public does not find me as repellent as I find myself, I continue to think of myself as an Ugly Duckling who never really attained Swan status. It almost doesn't even make sense-in other areas of my life, I tend to (unfortunately) rely on what others think to determine how I feel about myself, such as in the workplace. Somehow though, nothing brings me down as much as my physical appearance, even when someone makes a comment contrary to my own opinion.

I really wonder why it is that we allow ourselves to be so affected by appearances. I thought that maybe getting my own feelings down on paper would help me to come to some sort of conclusion, but it hasn't worked yet. One day I hope to find the secret to being happy with oneself. No one should have to look into the mirror and feel like a sea monster.

Here's to hoping!