I’ve never been able to take a compliment whether it’s about my ability to do something, my personality, or, more than anything, my appearance. I have never been, nor ever will be the pretty girl. In primary school, I was a laughing stock amongst all the boys in my class, they wouldn’t touch me with a ten inch pole. Secondary school, was probably even worse. I got laughed at going to and from school because I cycled, I still don’t get what was so funny so I’ve made my own assumptions. I’m ugly as fuck. I have no features that could attract someone in anyway. I’m also fat, but no matter how much I starve myself and go to soccer practice I still can’t lose weight.
I only started wearing make up in May of this year and even with that I don’t wear it that often. I used to be really against make up. I thought it made people look fake, why couldn’t they be happy with how they looked naturally. I know that’s hypocritical but just because I feel a bit better wearing make up around people I like, it doesn’t mean I’m happy with how I look. Since coming to college, I haven’t been really laughed at or made fun of openly about my looks. However, that doesn’t mean I think any compliment I’ve received is completely honest. Not all of them just some from the first couple of weeks. Recently, I’ve had a lot of compliments. On Monday during the day at college before the bus incident, I was having a great day. My friend said that my hoodie was nice even when I said “oh no it’s really old I’ve had it for years”, she still said it was nice and that I looked pretty. I wasn’t even wearing make-up apart from some eyeliner and mascara. She then was like “have you done something with your hair?” She was the first person to notice my haircut even if it wasn’t straight away. For the first time in like ever I actually felt good after hearing that, I still didn’t think I was pretty but that’s not important here. We were in the Radio studio and one of her classmates was outside the studio and she was yelling at her outside to come into the studio and give her a hug, but it didn’t seem like they were coming in. So since I was standing beside my friend she was like “Sandra come here, you give me a hug instead.” So I hugged her and I immediately just felt so happy. Also she gives great hugs. Later on that day too, I got a kiss on the cheek from one of my classmates, talk about the highlight of my day.
I started writing this blog over a week ago, so some of this is old news. That doesn’t mean the feelings have disappeared or even diminished. I still think about all the compliments I got that week, because I got a lot, and in a way they make me feel really happy. I even tried taking a selfie today to maybe try and actually have a Facebook profile picture of my face for once like people will see who I am from the get go and not be like “oh she’s not the pretty one in the photo, she’s the other girl.” I didn’t take many because I couldn’t find a reason to try and get a good photo. I’ve lived with this face for 17 years and I’m still not used to it. I still don’t like it. I’m afraid I will never like it. I know nothing about relationships but from what I’ve heard you need to learn how to love yourself before others are really going to love you. So if I never learn to love myself, will I be alone forever? Well with that attitude, of course I will no doubt about it. Negative attitudes just bring about more negativity in someone’s life and I should know because I’ve been like this as long as I can remember and it has in fact driven people away. It’s why it takes me so long to make friends, I can’t see why they would like someone like me.
I was on the phone to one of my friends nearly two weeks ago and it was the first time I really talked to her since I started college. She asked me “So tell me about your friends at college.” I told her “Well I don’t know if I really have any friends, there is people I talk to more than others but…” She cut me off before I could finish the sentence saying “Those are friends. That’s what friends are Sandra.” We continued our conversation, but I’ve kept thinking a lot about this even two weeks on. What is so wrong with me that I’m afraid to call people my friends? First and foremost, it is my fear of rejection. I also really hate awkward tension, and I know that if I was rejected by someone there would be a lot of awkwardness between us. Another reason being is that I’ve always taken friendships incredibly serious. I really don’t want to fuck it up (again). I’ve written before about how for the last few years I’ve felt really lonely, and how I didn’t really fit in, and blah,blah,blah. I’ve talked about it enough there is only so much pity people will feel for me, and I have to stop this repetitive, sadistic, theme involving how I used to lack strong relationships with people. Not that I like pity, I fucking hate it, but the more I keep going on about it the more pathetic I’m going to sound. However, it links to this quite a bit, and also I would like these next 4 years to be as amazing as I can possibly make them. Therefore, if I remember how things used to be it will motivate me more to distance myself from who I was back then. It’s been about a year since I started to become closer friends with the people I can’t imagine my life without now. I just love them, and if you say anything bad about any of them I will proceed to punch you in the face okay? I mean if you saw them, you would see why I have such major body insecurities. All my friends are beautiful, like even when they’re not trying. Like in secondary school, nobody really tries too much. Some days you might look a wreck but you’re in school so there’s no need or point in trying to hide that you are in fact tired and are not in any mood to paint on a new face. I’m not saying that this is what my friends were like but something similar to that affect. None of them really wear tonnes of make-up anyways, mostly because they don’t need it. I hope they know that.
I on the other hand do have to wear make-up. I might still look like a wreck but at least I’ve hidden away some of my freckles and the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. It doesn’t change anything. No one is ever going to look at me the way I look at someone I have a crush on. No one’s heart is going to beat faster when they see me because they are excited to see me. No one is going to get butterflies in their stomach when they talk to me. No one will ever love me in a romantic sense. Sexual sense on the other hand is a different story. Now they won’t love me but they might get attracted to me, sort of. Like the man on the bus, he was attracted to me because I have boobs. I wish I had smaller boobs, also a smaller body. Well one reason being that I hate male attention. I feel like I can’t wear any type of low cut shirt without some creep staring at my boobs. It’s not like I’m the only person who has them. It’s also not like my boobs are very big in the first place. The average bra size in the UK, and I assume Ireland is the same, is currently 36D. It used to be 34B but it has changed in the last few years. I’m size 36C so my boobs are technically average sized. I don’t know why some women are so secretive about their bra size, like we can see whether you have small or big boobs saying the size just the size won’t be a big shocker, it just makes it way easier to shop for you now. Not that I would ever really buy someone a bra because that shit is expensive, but you never know I might someday when I stop being a stingy bastard. I never asked for boobs, they just appeared. I kind of wish I had seen the 1995 film ‘Now and Then’ when I was a kid, maybe I would have smaller boobs if I had started taping them down like Roberta did. I don’t want my boobs to be the main point of attraction. Being gay, I’m not into men, so I wish that they would feel the same way. Go fuck the straight girl I like, I don’t care, just don’t go anywhere near me. I think that the incident on the bus has increased my fear of men. I’ve never really been afraid of women like ever, apart from teachers at school. That has to do more with my fear of all member of authority though.
Since the incident, I seriously can’t take compliments on my appearance anymore because no matter how genuine the person complimenting me might be, all I can think of is him saying it. Whenever I get a compliment, his voice echoes in my head, and I see his silhouette just haunting me there until the day I die.