Everyone is Special

This, I know is true when I look at you.

Society glorifies a certain type of beauty.  Slender bodies of smooth, fair skin with pin straight hair the color of straw without a lick of frizz.

And I possess none of these things.

Growing up, my extended family always made fun of my looks.  They poked at my chubby build, my frizzy “Maa Kali” hair, my thick unibrow that sat over my eyes, and my dark skin.

Coupled with the fact I didn’t look like what society considered beautiful, it’s not surprise that I had shitty self-confidence.  It sure didn’t help the volcanoes that started to erupt on my face when puberty decided to join the game of life.

I was ugly, point, blank, period.  And no one failed to remind me.

I was bullied throughout middle school and high school for being the chubby, pizza face girl with the huge ball of frizz on her head and ugly teeth.  And I believed every word they said.

So, I would spend hours and hours a day, researching tips and products to buy to make my face clear and fair, my hair less frizzy and straighter.  I started to do pilates at home to get a flat stomach.  I started to get the caterpillar above my eyes threaded.  But, I had to live with my ugly teeth until 10th grade.

On a family vacation to the Motherland in 8th grade, a new “lightening” skin cream called Fair and Lovely came on to the market.  I already knew the Motherland praised fair skin too, but it hurt; no where in the world was I considered pretty.  Desperate to silence the condescending and humiliating jokes from my lighter complected family members, I bought the cream.  I was basically the female version of Sammy Sosa.

A hair product also came out that promised to tame frizz and straighten hair with no heat.  Since my mom refused to let me straighten my hair, this product was added to my arsenal of harsh products that I slathered on my hair everyday.

When I came back to the States, I added both products to my everyday regime.  I continued to slather on that chemical filled cream on my face on top of all the harsh chemical laden products that I already put on my face.  I put products mean for straight hair on my curly ball of frizz in the hopes that they would straighten my hair out.  At this point, I was in 10th grade, and my confidence was at an all time low.  I was miserable; I felt uglier than ever and I was exhausted from putting all this shit on my face and hair.  So, one day I decided to say, “Fuck it.”

Everything happened in steps.  First, I stopped putting the bleaching cream on my skin.  It took about a year to get my skin back to its normal color in a safe way, but my skin hasn’t been the same since I started using that stuff; my skin is incredibly sensitive now because of that crap.  So, I started the trial and error game of finding sensitive skin products for my skin.

Next, I decided to stop trying to get my hair to be straight, and just let it be its curly self.  It has taken me years to find the correct hair care regime.  Since 2011, when I started this curly hair journey, my hair has gone through multiple texture changes.  In the beginning, I still used super harsh products, but that changed over the years.

As far as my weight, I grew 5 inches taller and leaned out a little, but realized that I was never going to be stick skinny.  This was extremely hard for me to accept, and until about a year ago, I still hadn’t come to terms with this fact.  And on a trip back to the Motherland in 2015, I heard it again: “You’re fat Jess.  Lose weight.”  But this time, I decided to shut their voices out.  I love my family, but fuck that, I’m going to start to love myself.

I decided to stop being beautiful by society’s standards and start being my own type of beautiful.  It’s still a process; after constant tear down for more than a decade, it’s hard to build confidence.  But, I’m progressing slowly, and in the time being, I try to focus the shine on my intelligence, knowledge, and personality.

Today, I got good control over my skin, which is back to its older color since moving back to the sun.  My hair is big and curly, and I fucking love it.  My teeth are fucking perfect; white and straight after two and a half years with braces.  And, I learned to love the big booty and thick thighs that captivate others, and I try to make them shine.

I may still have confidence issues, but young Jess would have never expected to be where I am right now, and I’m sure she’d be pretty happy that I’ve gotten where I am.