Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise?

I think if you ask anyone to describe me, the adjective 'insecure' wouldn't cross their minds at all. Even I wouldn't describe myself as that - there are just too many other wonderful things I could say about myself. Besides, the heat I radiate as a result of the friction between my feet and the ground as I briskly stride past displays an aura of confidence, doesn't it? =P

So I wonder when it was that I started thinking I wasn't good enough.

When I was younger, I didn't think I was pretty. I was being really objective about it too - I was chubby, kept short hair, my eyes are still as monolid and small as ever, and everything about my appearance was just...ordinary. My benchmark was probably all those girls with double-eyelids and long hair done up in all sorts of ribbons. Whatever it was, I knew I wasn't pretty - but at that time, it was okay. That's because I could always fall back to my intelligence (or rather, just good grades) and charisma and public speaking skills  to stand out.

Yeah, it didn't really take much to stand out in a small primary school like mine. The fact that I spoke Mandarin with an English intonation alone was probably enough to make me stand out. xD

But I digress. I knew I wasn't a looker, and so I didn't really care much about clothes, or make-up, or ...hair. Yeah, I kept my short hair till I was 18, then grew it out after SPM. I didn't care what guys thought of my appearance, or if they did, I'd just brush it off, roll my eyes, and wonder why the world was so unfair that girls had to take so much trouble to groom themselves, and guys didn't. If guys didn't go for me, that was really fine. After all, my school didn't give me many guys to pick from (sorry dudes, it's not you, it's me), plus no one really fit my criteria there. And with that mindset, I just happily went through my high school years, didn't give two hoots about popularity with guys, and focused on being friends with them, grades, and all the other important stuff...like grades. =P

Looking back, I think I might have been unconsciously compensating for my looks.

Then I went to college. In college, I could start over because no one knew me or my reputation. Julyan was my roommate, and we were both at roughly the same stage where grooming, skincare and experimenting was concerned (by experimenting I mean stuff like perming and dyeing hair, not weed). Throw in a fashion expert (Deborah) to egg us on, and there we were getting skincare products, nice clothes and the entire package. Throw in a boyfriend who thinks I'm gorgeous and nicely sized, and points out things like how my hair is shiny and smooth, and I started to think, you know, maybe I CAN be cute after all. All it really takes is the right outfit to turn guys' heads on the streets, at least in my opinion. Everything happened all at once, and not having experienced this in my high school years, I felt ...wow.

One step closer to the perfect image if I could juggle my grades, my talents, AND my appearance as well.

But the thing is, it never is enough. Now my skin is never smooth enough, I get more aggravated if I get a breakout now than I ever had been before. If no one compliments me on an outfit, I start wondering if it really looked as nice as I thought it did. I am now more conscious of my pear-shaped body and wish my butt was smaller, although I'm far from believing that it is unsightly. I started judging people by their appearances, and I can really appreciate superficial stuff now, like how pretty an actress looks on screen, or how that magenta blouse highlights my fair complexion. *cough*

Oh, and I don't mind shopping for pretty clothes now, I kinda see it as making up for lost time during my teenage years. At least I stay within a pretty strict budget (one thing you can't really change about misers =P) - that helps me feel better.

*shrugs* It's so easy to lose sight of what's important, isn't it? That God made me just the way I am, that He's so proud of me, and when I constantly fill my mind with thoughts of not being pretty enough and hungering for man's (pun intended) approval, I am downgrading His creation? Can I still believe that I am beautiful no matter what I wear, and that there is so much more to life than worrying about petty things like how I look? Am I what they call "insecure" now?

The slide was so gradual that I barely noticed it.

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