Thinking
06-29-2010, 03:52 AM
I don't remember the first time I was called ugly.
My earliest memory was from fourth grade.
A couple girls had visible crushes on this one art teacher.
It was evident in their chasing her during recess and their constant talking about her during class…all of which was to no avail.
One day in art class…that particular teacher and I happened to sit next to each other.
We started chatting and joking around with the paint and messing up each other's art.
Afterwards when we came back to our regular class the two girls spied our interaction and immediately seized their opportunity.
"Oh my god, teacher likes You--Look at you!" they squealed.
"Are you feeling proud now? Ooh!"
This was echoed by a few other classmates and followed by a chorus of giggles.
hmm...Mortified....I…stopped talking to art teacher and concentrated on our classroom assignments ignoring her smiling at me or friendly remarks.
But the teasing continued throughout so many days.
Then one day…I was standing in the lunch line when both the girls came up to me.
"Look," one of them said, "No body likes you. You're ugly."
Then they walked away.
That was my first memory of being called ugly.
The next memory I have was in seventh grade.
A friend told me she overheard some teachers talking about me...of course I have told her that I like those two particular teachers..one is of Maths and other one was of I guess English.
"What'd they say?" I asked - eagerly.
"It's not good" she muttered.
"What?"
"I feel bad" she said.
"Come on!"
"Well..." she started, "one teacher (our English teacher) was saying how you were ugly."
She barely whispered the word..."ugly."
I felt my stomach drop. "hmmm."
"Then the other teacher (math) said, 'She's not just ugly, she's too-ugly' " my friend continued.
"And...?"
"And then they started laughing and kept saying how ugly you were."
"hmmm"
"Are you upset?"
Upset wasn't quite the word......What was it?
a)Humiliated?
b)Stupid?
Or
c)better yet...UGLY?
There probably was no better time to be called ugly than in seventh grade.
Because this event perhaps made me wish so many times :I wish I was white with blonde hairs and blue eyes.
I can still remember to this day looking in the mirror one particularly low day…wearing black as I frequently did back then and just hating my face.
I know I wasn't disfigured…but my features were just so ugly.
I actually made a mental list of plastic surgeries I wanted:
a)Nose job - to raise and narrow my nose
b)Cheekbone implants - to give distinguished definition to my round, flat face
c)Eye surgery - to enlarge my almond shaped eyes
and most importantly or crucially
d)Growth surgery (Yeah I don't know how this was feasible but I wanted it) - to be taller than the barely 5'0 height I was in seventh grade
Despite my pleas…my parents did not allowed me to go on for these surgeries.
Though my face developed and changed through high school into college.
And while I do believe my face did change since my youth…part of me suspects that perhaps my face didn't change that much.
Perhaps it was just my perception that changed.
Perhaps the real change was gaining more confidence...more care...more sense...more wise…
Specifically…realizing that all the faces are being made by my MAKER and HE made no one in this world UGLY.
My earliest memory was from fourth grade.
A couple girls had visible crushes on this one art teacher.
It was evident in their chasing her during recess and their constant talking about her during class…all of which was to no avail.
One day in art class…that particular teacher and I happened to sit next to each other.
We started chatting and joking around with the paint and messing up each other's art.
Afterwards when we came back to our regular class the two girls spied our interaction and immediately seized their opportunity.
"Oh my god, teacher likes You--Look at you!" they squealed.
"Are you feeling proud now? Ooh!"
This was echoed by a few other classmates and followed by a chorus of giggles.
hmm...Mortified....I…stopped talking to art teacher and concentrated on our classroom assignments ignoring her smiling at me or friendly remarks.
But the teasing continued throughout so many days.
Then one day…I was standing in the lunch line when both the girls came up to me.
"Look," one of them said, "No body likes you. You're ugly."
Then they walked away.
That was my first memory of being called ugly.
The next memory I have was in seventh grade.
A friend told me she overheard some teachers talking about me...of course I have told her that I like those two particular teachers..one is of Maths and other one was of I guess English.
"What'd they say?" I asked - eagerly.
"It's not good" she muttered.
"What?"
"I feel bad" she said.
"Come on!"
"Well..." she started, "one teacher (our English teacher) was saying how you were ugly."
She barely whispered the word..."ugly."
I felt my stomach drop. "hmmm."
"Then the other teacher (math) said, 'She's not just ugly, she's too-ugly' " my friend continued.
"And...?"
"And then they started laughing and kept saying how ugly you were."
"hmmm"
"Are you upset?"
Upset wasn't quite the word......What was it?
a)Humiliated?
b)Stupid?
Or
c)better yet...UGLY?
There probably was no better time to be called ugly than in seventh grade.
Because this event perhaps made me wish so many times :I wish I was white with blonde hairs and blue eyes.
I can still remember to this day looking in the mirror one particularly low day…wearing black as I frequently did back then and just hating my face.
I know I wasn't disfigured…but my features were just so ugly.
I actually made a mental list of plastic surgeries I wanted:
a)Nose job - to raise and narrow my nose
b)Cheekbone implants - to give distinguished definition to my round, flat face
c)Eye surgery - to enlarge my almond shaped eyes
and most importantly or crucially
d)Growth surgery (Yeah I don't know how this was feasible but I wanted it) - to be taller than the barely 5'0 height I was in seventh grade
Despite my pleas…my parents did not allowed me to go on for these surgeries.
Though my face developed and changed through high school into college.
And while I do believe my face did change since my youth…part of me suspects that perhaps my face didn't change that much.
Perhaps it was just my perception that changed.
Perhaps the real change was gaining more confidence...more care...more sense...more wise…
Specifically…realizing that all the faces are being made by my MAKER and HE made no one in this world UGLY.