You’re Beautiful-BFF 215

     Before I started school I had little doubt in my mind that I was beautiful because my mom told me all the time.  She loved me.  I was her little girl and I was beautiful to her.  Once I reached school I discovered that I wasn’t the rest of the world’s idea of beautiful, and quite honestly the truth of it hurt.
     

     As I got older my classmates let me know in no uncertain terms that I was ugly.  I believed them.  I looked in the mirror and believed every single word. I was too short.  I had four eyes.  I had braces on my teeth and my front teeth had failed to appear thanks to a too small palette and cruel twist of fate.  Because of these flaws few of them took the time to get to know me.  It probably wasn’t considered cool to be seen with me. At least that is what I imagined.  What few friends I found moved on as soon as boys noticed they existed.  I was teased, ridiculed, and made fun of.  Sadly I believed everything they said. 

        At the time I remember getting a book that was titled how to become beautiful or something like it.  It basically held between its pages beauty tips on how to make your hair shine and have flawless skin.  I tried every trick in the book and still it didn’t help me.  Years later while visiting a salon for a new style the stylist pulled out a can of Sexy Hair.  When a few sprays of that didn’t seem to do the job she left and returned with an economy sized can.  I had learned my lessons well.  I told her it didn’t matter if she emptied a vat of the stuff on my head I still wouldn’t be sexy or beautiful.  She didn’t know what to say to that but had the good sense not to attempt to sell me a can of the stuff.

       During my school years I felt invisible.  People would say hello back when I said hello to them and then they would go on their merry way leaving me alone.  By the time a guy noticed I existed and told me he thought I was beautiful I had become forever jaded certain that something surely had to be drastically wrong with him to think so.  Still there was that girl deep inside who hoped he really felt that way.  It turned out there was a lot wrong with him.  He was an alcoholic and a wife beater.  Lucky me to have nabbed his happy butt!  I was even luckier when he decided to leave without a backwards glance.

        When I married again I found a man who really did love me.  When he looked into my eyes I felt beautiful.  It didn’t matter a tinker’s damn that no one else did.  He did, and that is all that mattered.  On our wedding day I found the prettiest dress I could  and when I gazed into his eyes I finally felt beautiful.  I believed it to be true.  I knew in my heart he loved me, and I loved him in return.  When the wedding pictures came back I proudly took them off to work to share them with my co-workers knowing that for the first time in my life not only did I feel I looked good in those pictures but I was even fooled into thinking I was beautiful if only for that moment.  

        I worked with the lady I had chosen for my matron of honor and as she was looking at my wedding pictures another co worker came up and started going on and on about how beautiful my friend looked in my wedding pictures.  I was the bride for crying out loud, but once again I felt as if even on the most important day of my life when I was sure I had been beautiful I obviously had not been.  Since when is the matron of honor more beautiful than the bride?  I mean what the hell!!  I snatched my photo album away and went back to my desk devastated.

     Does beauty really matter all that much?  Is it really necessary to spend thousands of dollars to have bigger boobs and perfection if deep inside you are an evil bitch to everyone you meet?  It must matter to some or plastic surgeons wouldn’t be making a fortune.  Still beauty to me goes far deeper.  It is kindness and genuine smiles.  It is exhibited best in those who love no matter what without conditions, someone who treats everyone exactly the same no matter what.  True beauty comes even more apparent when you delve deeper than outward appearances and really discover a kind loving person within.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people knew this instinctively from the get go  that everyone is beautiful in their own special way?  If only,  until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.