Braces
I have ugly teeth, okay? They're crooked and, well, ugly.
So, anyway, I've had people come up to me - mostly old ladies of the busybody species, friends of my parents (let me tell you I hate social gatherings) - and discuss about me with my parents as if I were invisible, a chunk of meat at the butcher's they'd like to buy.
You know that kinda talk. Yak-yak-blah-blah then glance at you and smile, yak-yak some more. Meanwhile, I'd be smiling politely if I forgot to bring my trusty novel, a fake artificial smile, like those artificial sweeteners - 10-sen candy instead of million-dollar-pure-Haagen-Dazs ice-cream. (Don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure you've used it before!!!)
It's inevitable. One old auntie will approach me and say,"Aiyo, you so pretty wan, why don wan go straighten your teeth? Later no boy you know!" (sic) as if they were doing me a huge favor. (Note: The usage of the word 'pretty' is not a compliment to me. This particular species of people use it all the time in front of any and all subject matter and her parents. What they say behind the subject matter's parents' backs are different things altogether.)
By this time, a thousand sarcastic answers will be floating in my mind, all clamouring for release. It is only by a mighty act of will that I manage to curb my tongue - and that because of my parents. I have to 'jaga' their 'water face', after all. *sigh* The sacrifices I make. My parents should appreciate me more.
But I digress.
So, being restrained by thoughts of impropriety, with what they think is maidenly modesty (*choke*sputter*), gritting my (ugly) teeth, I say nothing.
Inside, though, I'm seething. I'm insulted. I'm pissed off.
Firstly - looking for a boyfriend is NOT a priority in my life. These old ladies are sad, sad cases.
Secondly - IF I were looking for a boyfriend, he definitely won't be the kind who goes for looks only. That's so shallow. If a guy were to say he loves me but can't accept my teeth or any other part of me, well, he can go take a hike. Any guy who says he loves me and then asks me to get braces - I'll ask him to get braces and stick 'em up his @$$. Ditto with those who complain about the way I dress.
Thirdly, and most important - God made me, each single part, ugly teeth and all. And I'm happy with His work. I'm beautiful the way I am. God happens to love abstract art.
The moral of this post? Love the way you are - fat, small, short, tall, warts and all. Don't let ANYONE make you feel bad about the way you look. Remember - to God you're special. And to all those busybodies...go look in the mirror, okay?
So, anyway, I've had people come up to me - mostly old ladies of the busybody species, friends of my parents (let me tell you I hate social gatherings) - and discuss about me with my parents as if I were invisible, a chunk of meat at the butcher's they'd like to buy.
You know that kinda talk. Yak-yak-blah-blah then glance at you and smile, yak-yak some more. Meanwhile, I'd be smiling politely if I forgot to bring my trusty novel, a fake artificial smile, like those artificial sweeteners - 10-sen candy instead of million-dollar-pure-Haagen-Dazs ice-cream. (Don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure you've used it before!!!)
It's inevitable. One old auntie will approach me and say,"Aiyo, you so pretty wan, why don wan go straighten your teeth? Later no boy you know!" (sic) as if they were doing me a huge favor. (Note: The usage of the word 'pretty' is not a compliment to me. This particular species of people use it all the time in front of any and all subject matter and her parents. What they say behind the subject matter's parents' backs are different things altogether.)
By this time, a thousand sarcastic answers will be floating in my mind, all clamouring for release. It is only by a mighty act of will that I manage to curb my tongue - and that because of my parents. I have to 'jaga' their 'water face', after all. *sigh* The sacrifices I make. My parents should appreciate me more.
But I digress.
So, being restrained by thoughts of impropriety, with what they think is maidenly modesty (*choke*sputter*), gritting my (ugly) teeth, I say nothing.
Inside, though, I'm seething. I'm insulted. I'm pissed off.
Firstly - looking for a boyfriend is NOT a priority in my life. These old ladies are sad, sad cases.
Secondly - IF I were looking for a boyfriend, he definitely won't be the kind who goes for looks only. That's so shallow. If a guy were to say he loves me but can't accept my teeth or any other part of me, well, he can go take a hike. Any guy who says he loves me and then asks me to get braces - I'll ask him to get braces and stick 'em up his @$$. Ditto with those who complain about the way I dress.
Thirdly, and most important - God made me, each single part, ugly teeth and all. And I'm happy with His work. I'm beautiful the way I am. God happens to love abstract art.
The moral of this post? Love the way you are - fat, small, short, tall, warts and all. Don't let ANYONE make you feel bad about the way you look. Remember - to God you're special. And to all those busybodies...go look in the mirror, okay?
posted by sleepypurplepiglet at 5:47 PM
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