Perfectly Imperfect

      Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.   That’s what some people say. But in this ever so superficial world that we live in, I wonder if people still believe in that. Why the skeptical thought, you may say? Well, let’s just say that I’ve lived through the experience of being the ugly duckling – literally.

First, let’s define beauty, shall we? For women, I believe it is mostly about flawless porcelain skin, slim figure, long legs, flat abs, big booty, and the perfectly sculpted facial features. At least that’s what the media is feeding us from time to time.

OK, body images may change throughout time. There was a time when healthy figures were popular (remember Marilyn Monroe?). But I grew up in the era of the supermodels (Cindy, Naomi, Claudia, Christie, Helena, etc.), when slim lean body was considered as the ideal shape. And it gets even worse now, when models get skinnier and sickly – and size 0 is considered the ideal size.

Now how about skin? One could not argue that flawless complexion is the preference from time to time, no matter what color is your skin. Clear smooth skin, free from zits or scars, is always the standard for beautiful skin. Lucky those who are blessed with such skin types. As for me, I am ‘blessed’ with a heredity – the genes and hormones that produce horrendous zits, all over the face. Yes, it is the nightmare of all nightmares, especially for females.

It started when I was, I think, in 6th grade. But it was just the normal type. Then it got serious when I was in secondary school – and I mean very serious. Every inch of my facial skin was covered with active volcanoes – the kind that grows so big with yellowish goo in it. It is painful, physically and emotionally. You go out and you see people stared at you either with a pitiful look, a disgusted look, or the combination of both. Your friends (or so-called-friends) at school mocked you. They sneered and jeered at your physical being, especially the boys – being normally devilish at that age. I went from being called the common ‘pizza face’, to ‘moon face’, to many other things.

And let’s not forget that I was also sporting braces and a pair of glasses at that time, with a body shape which was on the chubby side. Perfect – just the right combo for a (stereotyped) super nerd/outcast. If you’ve seen movies or read stories about school kids bullying the nerd, yeah, I was that nerd – maybe even the uglier version. I was a hopeless case, as a boy once said to me (in a pitiful note), “You have zits, braces, and glasses. Oh my...”

I was never a wallflower but I was in the spotlight for all the wrong (and negative) reasons. I never realized I had problems or that I was ugly (according to society's standard) until then. All those sharp-needle-words stung me and made me feel very self-conscious. They shaped me into this insecure girl with a very low self-esteem.

Things were not that supportive at home either. When my family or relatives talked about me, topics would always stir around my physical being, from my zits to my weight. Nevermind other things such as brains, first impression (physical look) is everything. I hated the mirror and the camera. When I checked myself in the mirror, I would look at the face staring back and say, "You are so unattractive. You are hopeless. You are not capable of being loved."

So yeah, I grew up feeling (very) ugly and hating myself.

Of course my parents went all the way to fix me and make me ‘beautiful’. After all, I am a girl – and who would want to marry an ugly looking girl? They were afraid I might end up as a sad spinster in the future. So, together with my sister (who also had the same problem, though not as bad as mine), we hopped from one dermatologist to another. Traveling from Jakarta to Semarang to Singapore. From going under sessions of painful electrified needle machines to swallowing prescription pills that made me had migraines and chapped lips. Some of it worked, some just made things worse.

Luckily, my hormone started to balance itself when I was halfway through high school. There were only occasional appearances of the big zits. And the mocking pretty much subsided – I guess they (the mockers) finally grew up a bit. But I was left with a new problem – (acne) scars all over my face. It got slightly better when I was in college, but they’re never gone. I’ve pretty much have given up all hopes of being able to have flawless complexion – something I envy very much from many other women.

As my complexion was getting slightly better, so did my outlook on life. I decided to focus my time and energy to other things outside the superficial, like polishing my brain. I still had a low self-esteem, but I smiled a lot and I made many friends. I excelled in classes and was quite well known amongst students and teachers. So imagine my surprise when one day, people started telling me that I was beautiful. Really, that was the biggest joke ever - I never fit into that frame. And then came the boys who said (or was said) to have a liking on me.

Suddenly, I was attractive.

Then I started paying more attention to my looks again. I would look into the mirror, trying to find what's beautiful from that reflection I saw – I failed to notice any. All I see was the (very) uneven complexion I have, those small slanted eyes, that bump in my abs, and all the unattractiveness that I posses. Until one day, I woke up, looked into the mirror, and told myself, “Hey, yeah, maybe I’m not that bad. Maybe I am quite attractive. Maybe I am capable of being loved.” I smiled more and started to enjoy the praise and attentions - both for my brain and my looks. I no longer feel like an outcast or nerd.

Sure, there are still days when I feel like the mirror would crack when I look into it. My insecurities and low self-esteem are still there, though not too obvious. But there are also days when I feel beautiful and that I could conquer the world with my wits and charms. Hahahah…

It may sound a bit weird, but sometimes I feel thankful for not being the perfect beauty. I thought that maybe this is the way it should be – that I was meant to be the ugly duckling so that I wouldn’t grow to be arrogant and vain. Maybe I would easily fall into the trap of vanity if I were a flawless swan.

Well, certainly I’m no swan. But I’m no longer the ugly duckling.

I'm just perfectly imperfect. =)