angelface119

My Reality
Ad 2:
2002-08-19 01:58:16 (UTC)

How important are appearances?

I am short, I have big hair, big hips, a big butt, a large
nose, big boobs, the list could go on, but never the less,
I am an attractive person. I don’t think looks are
everything though I do find myself to be fairly appealing,
I have yet to hear any compliments. I am the girly girl
who does worry about what she looks like and I do try to
maintain myself, but I have been bred to be this way, it
was not a choice of way of life for me, it was something I
was born into.
My family, especially the women, have always put a
high price on looks. From the first time I can remember,
I was given unwanted makeup to play with, high hills to
prance in, and was always encouraged to keep up my
appearance and remain a lady at all times. I was taught
that the only way I was to be successful in life was to
achieve a good man, and to do that you must be spic and
span, clean cut, fluffed hair, immaculate makeup, and
dressed to the nine, no matter where you go (mind you,
personality, intelligence, or anything that really matters
was never brought up, just looks alone were suppose to get
me through). So to encourage this behavior, I have been
taught to jump through hoops all of my life.
At a very early age, I was being primed and
prepared to greet the world with my best face forward. So
I was plucked at age eight, began shaving in the fifth
grade, applied makeup for school in the sixth grade, was
sporting the latest trends while I was in diapers, and was
put on show for all to see.
That’s right, we are talking pageants, ballet and
tap, and even at a very young age I was carted off to a
McDonalds commercial, where I also endured hours of photo
shoots. Even as I got older I was almost dragged to a
modeling agency so I could be discovered, I was required
to enter countless model searches, and was even forced to
attend a photo shoot for a portfolio my mother wanted to
create. That’s right, ten outfits and fifty shots later, I
had been draped across couches, contorted into shapes
unimaginable, spread eagle on the floor, and stripped of
my dignity as I straddled chairs. It was unappealing to
me, it wasn’t beauty, it was artificial and made up. I
wanted little to do with it. I was glad that I could make
my family happy but I wanted to do it for who I was, not
what I appeared to be, but I went along with it because it
didn’t seem like that much to do just to please others.
Unfortunately, as I grew older I realized that
sacrificing what I believed in was a pain, and what I
believed in and who I am means more to me than pleasing
others, so I went to extremes. Yes I hit the akward
stage, where I went heavy grunge. that’s right, no
washing the hair, black t shirt, huge jeans, and a flannel
shirt every single day, oh and you cant forget the stylish
combat boots. I wanted to prove my point that looks were
horribly unimportant, but by doing this I realized that I
was punishing myself, I thought I looked unappealing this
way after a while. And though I didn’t want to succom to
what my family wanted me to be, I realized that doing the
opposite of what someone wants you to do, isn’t always the
best form of revenge, because in some situations you still
end up hurting yourself.
In my early teens, I realized that I did have
potential to be attractive in my eyes. don’t get me wrong,
I still refused to be what they wanted me to be, I still
refused to go play by play with what the fashion magazines
wanted me to be. I just took what I had and put my own
spin on things to make me feel comfy with me, because
when, in your head, you are the short fat girl, you want
desperately to play up your good qualities.
So yes, I still do the hair, and yes I paint my
nails, and yep you guessed it I wear makeup most of the
time, but its on my terms. I don’t have to do me up to
perfection, I do me up to my standards. I find myself
fairly appealing by myself, so now to make me feel good I
just play up what I need to. Doing my nails gives me
something to do, my hair is a constant battle not because
I love doing it some much, but because it has a mind of
its own and if I didn’t fix it, it might hurt me or
someone else, and I wear makeup because its fun for me,
its like an art, not because I feel I need it to cover up
my face and create another that is more appealing to
society.
One last thing, just because it seems to fit in
this category. Cosmetology is a profession that does
allow you to have a brain and still practice. You don’t
have to be an air head to attend the classes and you can
be unbelievably talented in other areas of life but just
happen to enjoy this job. I chose to follow this career
because I don’t want people to fear not appealing to
society. If I can make someone feel comfy in their own
skin and not a painted on facsimile then my job is worth
the time and effort. it’s a job that is a little down on
the totem pole of work, but who the hell cares, I like it,
I am good at it, and guess what, it is just as rewarding
as any other desk job you could achieve, but it has even
more benefits. It has pride, it has the ability to give
me the opportunity to give people confidence in
themselves, and in a society such as today, where
appearances seem to be the leading cause of success, I
will feel good about myself if I can give someone that
feeling of success with their own NATURAL BEAUTY, in place
of synthetics and hype.



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