Oh frigging f**k, M sent some of her pictures from Brussels and I had to, absolutely had to gasp in the most girly manner and utter the words “OMG, I look hideous!”. Seriously, it was like looking at a big lump of overgrown white dough. So much for looking pretty for that trip. I can look good at times. ::points to the pic on the right:: I like that pic, I do look good in it – in my personal humble opinion – I mean why do you think I chose to put it up in the first place. Taken in September btw and not in some distant long lost past. But the Brussels pictures – OMT and all the other deities!
I think it is time to lose a couple of kilos again – and damn, here I was thinking of baking today. And perhaps dip into the purse and head to the hairdressers. I guess one could do that once a year. No, I’m not kidding. Please don’t scream, I have long hair, it’s quite possible to make it look decent even without cutting it all the time. Once a year is plenty; once in five years could be said to be questionable. Whaaaat, really, there is nothing wrong with looking like a barefooted nature girl. But looking like an overfed vampire in a bun that aunt-Prudence could have worn in 1880 is not the most attractive of things.
Do I sound just a touch shallow? Yes, I do. I know. But looking decent is a self-esteem question. It really is, as horrid as it sounds. Have I told you of my childhood? When I was little I had warts – yes, I guess you could call them warts, or moles? – on my hands and a one teeny tiny one on my nose. The ones on my hands disappeared eventually by themselves, but the tiny one on my nose was removed in a hospital. I was then either on first or second grade, I don’t remember exactly. But I do remember that after the removal of the wart the girls in my class would play with me; that one of them said afterwards that she didn’t want to be my friend before – because of the tiny wart. So you can tell me it doesn’t matter how a person looks, but I learned it a long time ago: no-one wants to play with you if you look horrid.
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Repeat after me: ”I’m pretty, I’m pretty.” Cos you are. Never doubt that.
Photos are nice when they show you in your true form, but you shouldn’t really believe that photos are always correct or have something to do with how one should look. Your beauty lies in your kind heart, in your wisdom and wits, in your ready smile and light laughter. Shame on you, if you think, that we would judge you of all people on superficial things.
Thank you! That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I do fear you have me quite in tears now.
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