Confidence

"One of the most important things I've learned so far at college is probably the most invaluable piece of knowledge I've ever gotten.
I look around at the girls on campus. Some of them are tan and toned, some are chubby, some are so fat they waddle, some are nothing but skin and bones, but they all look nice. And when you look at their faces, they all have some little imperfection. Every single one of them. And they still look nice.
As I sit here going through the album on Facebook that someone put up, full of close-up pictures of people smiling and having fun, I realize that the thing that ultimately makes someone pretty is them believing that they are pretty. I am by no means a super-model, but I have to start realizing that I am pretty. My eyes and nose and mouth are pretty. My face, even with it's acne scars and bumps, is pretty. My smile that reaches up into my eyes that are two different colors, is pretty. My body is as pretty as I present it to be. There are girls all around me with a flabby arms and thunder thighs that are not afraid to wear tank tops and short shorts. Some of them maybe shouldn't show so much, but I commend them for not being afraid of showing their body off to the public. I am more comfortable hiding inside my XL t-shirts and baggy shorts that cover my knees, but I don't need to hide. Somewhere on campus is a guy that would love to see more of me. Not just in the typical 'I want to put my penis inside of you' type, but the 'I want to get to know and love every inch of your skin' kind of way."

I started this post at the beginning of the semester, back in August or September. Now it's December. I've got a broken arm and a shaved head. (More on that in THIS post). The broken arm and wheelchair bound-ness has limited my wardrobe to sweats and t-shirts, which kind of sucks (but is kind of nice). But the shaved head, that has changed my entire look completely.

July of this year

After surgery

November of this year

Luckily, I found that guy I was referring to earlier. When I first saw my reflection without my hair, he was sitting with me. I started crying and he just sat there holding my hand. He told me not to worry because it wasn't even the prettiest part of me. Talk about a great guy. :)
The bottom line is, if I hadn't realized my own beauty, this wreck would have killed me. Not literally, but it would have killed my sense of self worth.
Sure, there are still days when I look in the mirror and want to cry. There are still moments when I see my reflection and say, "Ew." But I still know I'm pretty enough for me, and that's all that really counts.