Beauty

What is beauty?  Is it being slender with long hair?  People tend to look at ones outward appearance.  What about what is on the inside? 

I started this post  a while back.  When I wasn’t worried about how I looked on the outside.  It has been an interesting year for me.  I have tried not to go back to an awkward stage where everyone’s opinion of me meant a lot to me.  I can’t remember a time where this wasn’t on my mind.  How it hasn’t affected my life in one form or another.  I used to want to get my haircut every few months because it got very afro like.  I used to look at myself in the mirror and see this big poof of dark hair that looked a lot like a mushroom cloud.  Whenever it got to be a too much to look at I would make an appointment and get my hair trimmed down.  When I was young I used to have a variety of hair styles I would go through.  I would go from braids to straight/relaxed/texturized hair to have my kinky curly hair.  As I got older I started to wear my hair shorter because it made it easier to manage.  I was usually on the go and wasn’t able to do much with my hair.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to it was just too hard to do.  So I went through a pixie hair cut stage than I tried a few other shorter versions.  Soon I really just liked it because it was so much easier to deal with.  When it got to long and I wasn’t able to handle it I knew it was time to get a trim.  The last time I got my hair cut was I think earlier this year.  I can’t remember for sure.   As I have been thinking and looking at myself the subject of Beauty came to me.  How does a person know they were beautiful.  I knew when I was in junior high I hardly thought as myself even faintly attractive (it was already an awkward stage).  I was just trying to deal with going to a new school and dealing with the many cliques.  In 6th grade I had a terrible time dealing with being very skinny.  I had several girls bully me calling me Bony Knobs and putting their wrists around my arms and legs.  I hated it so much.  I didn’t understand how anyone could be so cruel.  Plus with my name being different (Mahlet) I had several people calling me Mafalet.  Talk about a hit to the self confidence and self esteem.  I had nobody to turn to.  I would come home upset and sad.  I hated how I looked.  I would never wear shorts anything resembling a short sleeved.  I didn’t care how hot it was I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to point and tease me.  My mom would comfort me the best way she could.  She knew it hurt me.  It took me several years to get over the shame of being thin.  I didn’t even want my picture taken because I didn’t want to remember how ugly I felt.  If it wasn’t for my family and several friends I would not have gotten through that stage.  I had a friend of my family who would always tell me “Mahlet you are beautiful don’t ever forget that!”  Even to this day her words of wisdom come to me even though she has passed on. 

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