I grew up in the 90s and watched a lot of (terrible) teen movies during my teenage years. One thing that I learned from these movies was that there was really nothing worse to be as a teenage girl than what I was – smart, brown haired, glasses-wearing and incompetent with a make-up brush.
Now, I didn’t really care because there wasn’t much I could do about the colour of my hair, the glasses I wore (which I still like wearing, to this day). I tried to wear makeup a few times but I always felt more self-conscious.
And I like being smart, people in my family are smart. It’s not something to be ashamed of, I knew that even then.
Neither was enjoying to read. I also didn’t enjoy drinking or the thought of getting drunk. So I was a nerd and had accepted my lot in life.
Now I wonder if I was more deeply affected by those messages or whatever else has told me over the years that I’m not up to the standard.
I’m still useless with makeup. I came to the realization after I turned 30 that I will never enjoy wearing high heels and that I’m probably okay with that.
So I’m stuck somewhere between not caring whether society thinks I’m pretty and wanting to be okay with who I am and how I look based on the standards I see around me. And also the fact that my husband and daughter think I am beautiful. And that I know that my daughter both looks just like me and is beautiful.
It’s a whole mishmash of psychology that I might never figure out.