Mylifesamess's Blog

Childhood Manifesto

Posted in Uncategorized by mylifesamess on 10/09/2011

I’ve been dwelling the last few months on my past.  More than usual, which I don’t think is very productive for me in any way.  I’m going to indulge it, anyways, because when I want to do something, I blow off or explain away the reasons why I shouldn’t do it.

I think I was a strange kid.  For one thing, I had a very strong moral code, though I wouldn’t have characterized it as such then.  I think I got it from my reading and from Disney movies.  I wore what I perceived to be gender neutral clothing – jeans and plain t-shirts.  Persuading my mother to buy this clothing and allow me to wear it was a battle.  I felt strongly that caring for one’s appearance, even in the slightest, was vain and degrading.  I was embarrassed for people who did.  This was another source of contention between me and my mother, who was and is a very well put together lady.  I think now that I must have been confused by the contradictions that modern standards of beauty set before us.  We go to great lengths to beautify ourselves in such a way as to fool everyone around us into believing that our modifications are in fact simply part of our natural beauty.  Real, raw beauty gives those of us who have it a better starting point.  Raw beauty alone, however, has a far more limited mileage than we realize, unless we take steps to build on it.

I had a lot of raw beauty as a teenager.  I was adamant that I would not build on it, and often preferred to obscure it.  Low self esteem probably played a part in it, but it was also this unwritten manifesto that influenced me.  I felt superior to my female peers, more worthy of respect.  I, I thought, was not a silly girl that would just accept the status quo.  The status quo was ridiculous, illogical, and sexist, and I could not accept it, or defend it.

My Xanax is kicking in, and I can’t focus enough to really elaborate any longer or bring this post to a satisfying end.  I have quite a different view on beauty and appearance now.  I still recognize its faults, and do my best to rage against them in my own, mostly ineffective ways.  I wish that someone had understood me way back when.  I wish it was my mom.  I can’t resent her for it, though.  I wasn’t an easy child to understand.

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