Hello, old friend.
We’ve been together now for years – longer than anyone I have ever dated in my lifetime.
We met when I was around 9-years-old, in the shape of my hair, when somebody told me for the first time that it was ugly and fluffy. You struck again when I was eleven, when I realized that I wasn’t going to be as tall, fashionable, and pretty as everyone else around me. Nevertheless, you showed up again when I was 13, when I got braces. At 14, we were practically inseparable when I was a little chubby on my tummy, but yet still “too skinny” for everyone around me.
I wasn’t thrilled when we met for the first time, but I’m almost positive that you were thrilled that you were going to be company for a very, very long time.
At first because of you, I didn’t want to go out. It was devastating to think that a girl like me could talk to a boy if I didn’t look like the flawless women that have graced on the covers of magazines. You convinced me that I wasn’t pretty unless my hair was straighter than straw and I had beauty products I simply couldn’t afford glimmered across my face.
I was convinced that it would take a miracle or a Fairy Godmother – whichever came first – to fix my what was wrong with me. Sometimes I thought that it was I thought that every filter on Instagram could fill up the space in my mind that my flaws could be gone in an instant.
I told myself I didn’t care, but deep down inside, between the both of us, we both knew I cared a lot.
Then I realized, every single one of us on this planet has a part of you imbedded inside of them. You are a part of each of us and without you, we wouldn’t be who we are.
We are not biotic machines of perfection. How can we be if we’re only human?
With you, our biggest insecurities, we grow up to be machines but in another form. We grow up to become machines of criticism, criticizing others and their appearances because we are insecure about the way we look and act in the world. We spend thousands of dollars to fix our flaws, when in reality, we’re perfectly okay the way we are as long as we are ourselves and nobody else.
If college has taught me one thing is that honestly, people don’t care what you look like as long as you are a decent human being. They don’t care if a single strand on your head is not fixed, or if you have a crooked smile. In the end that’s what matters – not what defines our own individual insecurities, but who we are as people.
In the words of Tina Fey, “Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.”
The thing is, the flaws I see in myself are marks of beauty to other people. Without my untamable hair, people wouldn’t be able to recognize me a mile away. The stretch marks that are weaved across my body in a weblike manner across my hips are not flaws, they’re signs of strength.
My dark circles have been made a home beneath my eyes and I don’t think they’re going to go away anytime soon… and that’s okay. They’re a sign of the countless hours I have spent staying up into the morning working on an assignment and laughing about the weird parts about life with my family friends.
Today, I decide to embrace you and welcome the insecurities I have had in the past and the future ones I know I will have. It’s not easy waking up every morning to see your familiar face and be constantly reminded of what I am, but in the end I know that I am bigger than all of the list of insecurities I have.
Thank you for teaching me that I’m not perfect, but somehow making me realize that I am beautiful just the way I am.
A huge thank you to SFSU student and photographer, Karsyn! Be sure to follow her on Instagram @karsyn_ to check out more of her work or if you’re interested in having your picture taken.