When the angelic & vile faced little blond girl informed me at an audition for a local performance, that I would “never get picked” because I had freckles and “freckles are ugly”, I believed her. She was very convincing. Initially, I had offered her a smile. Her hair was neatly tied up in a pretty pink satin bow, with several ringlets cascading down to the nape of her neck. They swished back and fourth while she happily (and over dramatically) slammed me with just a few words. My smile faded fast, she even wore make up! A quick glance at her smug mother, who was looking on with silent approval, evaporated any hope that maybe she was out of line. Looking one more time, around the stuffy room, lined with nearly identical girls, all dressed in their Sunday Best. I realized that I was indeed an anomaly in this Southern California setting.
The “Annie” Circa 1980’s Perm haircut that my Dad thought was “so cute” did nothing to downplay my bright red hair. It practically shouted at you, as the artificially-tight, three inch curls flopped above my head, moving independently of my face. And yes, I had the dark sun-emblazoned marks of the freckled-face that goes along with the hair. It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow, I was shockingly made aware that it did. Eventually, I accepted it as the truth, as fact.
We are what we strive to be
Never mind that there millions of people that look very similar to me, I was wiling to take this overdressed and under considerate wanna be actor girl on the authority of what was attractive. How Dare Me!? It wasn’t until recently, that I had to ask myself, “Why?” Why did I let certain people downplay my worth? Why did I listen?
Why isn’t my inner voice shouting back, “It’s about what I can do and not about how I look”! (Lisa Tomasik)
I walked in to the audition room already defeated. I stepped onto the stage feeling my first real hint of uncertainty. Anxiety. Having “Butterflies” is an almost pleasant description and does not relay at all the experience that was mine. What I felt was the slow motion drain of the color leaving my face. Dizzy head, rolling stomach, my throat suddenly dry, my character evaporated, and my enthusiasm disintegrated. My footsteps were heavy, my eyelids were stinging and wanted to close.
Deep Breath. I tried to move past it and erase the waiting room unpleasantness. Searching for my confidence again, I focused on the task at hand. I started a slow pattern of movement, as I fell into character and tried to prove my abilities. Almost instantly, I was scolded by the stiff panel of emotionless, judgmental looking theater people. Without permission, my face turned bright red, they noticed, the shock was real, and I knew that little twit was right. Right then and there, I accepted it as a known fact that I must be odd looking, compared to everyone else. Later, I decided that acting wasn’t for me. I told myself that I just didn’t want to be around mean people. That angry little snot crushed my dreams…and I just let her.
Beauty is subjective
It seems like everyone I talk to, no matter what they look like have the same frustrations about not meeting the standards of the “current ideal physical image”. I thought I was dressed super cool; with my lacy white bow and matching lace overlaid white top. A multicolored corduroy skirt finished the look. I thought I was “in style” and looking pretty good. It was the 80’s, Madonna wore lacy bows in her hair, and she was really cool, so I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of her way to come over, get in my face, and make it crystal clear that I was not attractive or desirable. Then again, her hair was perfect, this was obviously not her first time shutting down an amateur. Why did I even need her validation? She was no one to me, just a girl that I had never seen before and would never see again. What drove me to put so much weight on her opinion? Was this supposed “expert” on the subject beautiful, herself? I certainly didn’t see anything beyond her superficial packaging that was attractive, but it is hard to find beauty in someone who shows you their dark side so aggressively.
Why was I afraid to say, “I think [I] look really good” (Olivia Frascino)
Our entire lives have been bombarded with other peoples opinions. Most of the time, we don’t even realize it. These opinions sneak in, they slither around throughout our subconsciousness, rattling around with disturbing force, causing trouble, corrupting along the way, until, they finally settle in to disguise themselves as fact. Eventually, we accept these opinions as reality, as truth. It becomes difficult to separate out what is real and what is put upon us by the media, our peers, community members and sometimes family. We are constantly being provided with someone other persons opinion of what we should all strive to be. It’s confusing, unreasonable and impossible to achieve. It changes with fashion and the times. Whether we know it or not, we are all looking up to that and subconsciously making a decision; we must become what we are told to be. We must become what is, for most of us, unattainable.
It leads me to wonder why we can’t just be “The most authentic version of [ourselves]” (Melissa Rubenchik) all the time? Why aren’t we content, secure, and confident with that? To try to be the best “ME” I can be, seems like enough, don’t you agree?
All we have is each other
We are unique creatures. Our differences are what make us unique. Those little variations that we are constantly trying to downplay, hide, disguise and change. What I see in you, that I think is special, is the very thing you despise. We should celebrate our differences, our uniqueness. It is our individuality that gives us our advantage, our strength. Our strengths are what enable us to do great things. Great things give us confidence to help us understand our worth.
Imagine how different my first impression of myself would have been if the girl had simply wished me good luck, Glared at me dangerously from across the room, or not even acknowledged me at all? We have the ability to affect other people on a subconscious level. We look to each other for validation and confirmation. Why don’t we try to encourage each other to be our best rather than dictate defeat?
As an adult, I know that my worth comes from what I can do, not how I look. I am in charge of my choices, not a victim of the circumstances. I have the ability to be kind. To be kind to myself. I need to remind myself that I am what I am working toward. I will work to change what I can and find a way to let the rest go. I am unique, wild and beautiful, just the way I am. I’m still working to love & appreciate what I am today, even if I am working hard to change what I will become tomorrow. I recognize that we are all struggling. I will celebrate and support others in this quest to find our confidence on this crazy spinning rock. I don’t want to be that little girl who never realized that she was ugly until informed by a stranger. I don’t want anyone else to feel that way either. Not ever. All we have is each other. I am here for you.
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