When I was in school, I was never the tallest, skinniest, or prettiest. I remember being about 8 years old. And wanting to be skinnier. To have straighter hair. To be darker in skin color...or to have lighter hair color. I never felt like I fit in.
Then there was middle school. 6th grade...brought all kinds of horrible feelings. I was never picked on. But I never quite fit in. I was the geek, bookworm, and musician. I felt like I was a little too heavy. With crazy hair. And it never failed, that I had some sort of breakout, going on...on my face.
Then I became a cheerleader in 8th grade. I think my issues got worse. I can very clearly, remember a day. I was in the bathroom, changing for practice. My friend was in one of the stalls, also changing. And I was in front of the bathroom mirror. The first time, I really looked at myself. And I just thought...ugh, I hate myself.
I remember saying out loud, if I would just loose 20 pounds. If my face was only thinner. Oh Monique, did you know some girls straighten their hair with the iron? It was the mid-90s. You can imagine all the craziness, that was in my 13 year old head.
She told me, you are going to have to loose a lot more than 20 pounds. You just have a round face. And your hair...I don't think it will work. You can just imagine...my insecurities just grew. The longer I went to cheer practice...the worse it got.
By the time I was a freshmen in high school, I swore, I was the ugly duckling. Once again, I had been separated from my friends. And I was now on the Freshmen Cheer Squad. In a school, that the cheerleaders sat pretty high in popularity. Me? I avoided most people. On the daily. Actually, probably more like on the hourly...
I remember spending breaks, in my next classroom, avoiding the athletes, and praying for the day to end. I didn't fit in, much better with the musicians. By the time I was a sophomore, I was on the Varsity squad. Life honestly, couldn't have been any better. Except that stupid voice, in the back of my head.
I tutored a good amount of our athletes, I was in every club imaginable, and still cheering. Yet, I could stay pretty invisible, in the grand scheme of things. That's just who I was. I had friends. But never let them too close. They didn't know too much about me. I never invited them to my house. I avoided guys, the dances, anything that made me have to talk. Honestly.
As pranksters, the guys were always pulling my sweats off me...when we were in uniform. I think they were trying to get me to lighten up. I was silently, freaking out. Every single time we had to wear our uniforms to school, I think I was having an anxiety attack. I'd walk down the hall, and someone would run up behind me...and pull down my sweats. We always wore bloomers, but still at 16...I thought I would die!
I was a size 3. Five feet tall. Very muscular, from competitive cheerleading. And I felt like I was an elephant. I thought I was ugly. And no one, ever saw me...without makeup on. Ever! Not at 2 a days. Not at 3AM practice. Or 11PM travel time. Never!
By the time I graduated...I was ready to be done with it all. I was asked to cheer in college. And couldn't saw no, fast enough. I was done with short shorts. And tight, little skirts. I was sick of showing my belly. Of dancing in front of crowds. And listening to all the guys...talk about how flexible we were.
I have not worn a pair of shorts, in public since. I don't wear bathing suits. And barely survived my days, as a waitress at Hooters. I'm just not that girl. Give me some yoga pants...or sweats, and I'm ready to roll.
Then college started. I used to run 10 miles a day. For myself. Stress relief. Staying healthy. That kind of thing. I was about a size 5. I had learned of a bet, that my high school athletes had going on. And just thought, Thank God I moved!
I began playing music more. Becoming a professional musician. Spending all my waking hours, free time, and work time...with men. Musicians. Guys that were 100% guys. I went from bare midriffs and short skirts...to long tight skirts. 99% of the time, changing in the back of someone's car. On the way to some gig. While I was trying to study.
Quickly, I figured out...to survive, I need to find them girlfriends. These guys became my best friends. And when the told me I looked nice, I blew it off. We were friends. They were just trying to make me feel good.
For 15 years, no one ever saw my bare face. I always had makeup on. Always had my hair done. I fought, to stay right around 100 pounds. By the time I graduated with my BS, I was 97 pounds. Weighed every ounce of food, that I ate. And almost got married 3 times. Because I needed to finance school. If I married a friend...I'd get some financial aid. That was my security. I held my friends close, and closed the door to dating.
But do you know what? I thought I was ugly. My face was too round. My stomach wasn't flat enough. My thighs were too thick. My calves were too muscular. My hair...was just too much. Not curly enough. Too frizzy. My face was too oily. I mean....I could go on forever! I didn't like myself. 97 pounds just wasn't small enough.
Looking back, I was completely suffering from disordered eating. And OCD. Later I'd put myself in counseling, to deal with the OCD. And I'd fix a bunch of things. But at the time, I just couldn't be small enough.
I had a friend, that traveled with me. Every single place I went to perform...she was there. Doing my hair and makeup. I was wearing red bottomed shoes, designer clothes, performing in front of thousands. And I thought I was the ugliest thing to walk the earth. I never understood, what everyone else saw.
7 years ago, I came home. To take care of my Dad. In his last few years, I didn't care about myself. I was the last person to eat. I didn't sleep. I was lucky to shower every other day. Makeup? Hair? That didn't matter. His doctors were used to seeing me in oversized men's sweats. My hair piled in some sort of messy bun. And bags for days...under my eyes.
All the time, my Dad told me, that he loved me. That I was beautiful inside and out. And I just didn't get it. I was looking back at some old pictures. I've easily gained 50-60 pounds. I haven't been on a scale in sooo very long! I'm not someone that has a big chest, or a cute butt. My face is still round. And my hair is still a hot mess!
But you know what? It's growing on me. I'm OK, having thicker thighs, and a bit of a midsection. It's OK, that I'm fair skinned...in a family of brown peeps! I'm OK, with my crazy hair. That never seems to cooperate. My legs aren't long. And my thighs and hips are bit much. I have many more curves...and will probably never have that keyhole. Ladies you know what I mean. All that working out, never made me happy. Neither did that keyhole.
And then, just like that...in the last week I realized something. I'm OK. I'm OK to be different. To not be the idealistic female. I'm OK with being curvy. And embracing all of that. It's OK, that most days I'm lucky to have moisturizer on my face, mascara on my lashes, and maybe lipstick on my lips. It's OK.
I realized this, one morning. Just days ago. Getting ready for the Growers' Market. 6AM...rushing to get ready. To go help a friend. I'm OK. Then I started getting these compliments. From friends, strangers, customers, other vendors....and kiddos. You look pretty today. I love your skin. Your hair looks nice. From one of my favorite littles...you so puuurty! I love you! With a big 'ol kiss.
Some people were joking with me, that the only reason certain customers came to buy stuff was because of me. I don't think I've gotten any prettier. But I'm real with people. I genuinely enjoy, talking to these people. Seeing them week after week. And maybe, once in a while, a braid or lipstick might help a bit. But really, I think I'm just comfortable being me.
If I had any wise words for that 13 year old girl, looking in the mirror...I'd tell her, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! It's all OK. Be comfortable with yourself. Don't starve yourself. Or spend all your time, running to be a size 1. Enjoy the food. Enjoy your life. It goes by so quick. And the people that really love you, will love you with or without the rolls. Honestly, they will!
The true beauty, comes from the inside. I've always known that to be true. When I look at others. It just took me a while, to see that for myself. I'm not suddenly going to walk around any different. But I'm now comfortable with myself.
And you know what? I've always made it a point, to tell my Goddaughters just how beautiful they are. We play a little game. How pretty are you? And we go through all the reasons, why they are pretty. Starting from their kind hearts...all the way to their pretty little eyes.
It's important. To empower little girls. To make sure, they have that kind of confidence. To let them know, at any size, shape, or color...they are beautiful! I'm going to continue to do my part. Because I never want any kid, to feel the way I felt. 34 years later...I'm finally OK with the woman that looks back at me, in the mirror. It's been a long road. But I'm OK, with a little roll, my pasty white skin, and this hair that has a mind of it's own!
XOXO,
Desiree
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