Shattered Self-Esteem

You know how excited you feel at the prospect of getting a brand spanking new pair of jeans that are so effing fantabulous that you're just about bouncing off the walls in anticipation?

Yeah. Me neither.

What with the level of pressure put on teenaged girls these days to look good, being skinny is on a majority of girls' minds. So for the giantess, average sized, athletic-y girls out there, buying jeans is down right miserable. I am one of those girls. I've participated in the narrow-eyed glare towards those anorexic girls that wear jeans that might fit my thigh. Usually I just give up right then, and go back to my years old pair of jeans that are so faded, they're almost see-through. But no, I decided I felt good enough about my appearance to try on a pair of jeans that are supposed to be my size.

I grab several pairs, ranging from smaller to bigger than what I'm used to wearing. Seems that in the year or so since I've bought jeans last, the clothing makers have decided that girls' self-esteem are just a tad too high and want to make them feel awful about their bodies again. I pull on the size of jeans I expected to be wearing. I make them up my legs to my waist, but I can't button them. Frowning, I pull them off and grab a size bigger. Once again, the same thing happened. Cursing to myself I nearly rip them off and storm out of the dressing room. I refuse to try on a size bigger, because that is four sizes too big. Naturally my mood is ruined. I spend the rest of the day wallowing and storming about angrily. I don't know what idiot thought this was a good idea, but he needs to be shot. Why do I think it's a he? That's simple. Because guys are shallow. Don't hate fellas, you know it's true. Especially in your close-minded, hormone driven years.

Now all I can think about is how I still don't have a new pair of jeans, I feel fat, and I need to lose fifteen pounds to be "happy". Which, news flash, is bullshit. I've long-since fought against the nonsense that consists of the fashion world. I wear jeans and tshirts that are too big because I don't want to show off my body. Does that mean I'm secretly fat? No. It means I'm more modest than the skin and bone whores that are taking over the sidewalk corners.

So here's the lesson. I've learned this recently really, from one of the best roommates a girl could ask for, you are only as perfect as you see yourself. Confidence comes from within. If I look in the mirror and think, "Damn, I look good." Then I will give off that confidence and people will think so as well. If I look in the mirror and say, "I don't even care, no amount of make up will help with this mess." Then I'm going to look self conscious and people aren't going to notice me. Yeah, I know that's difficult to do. To wake up and see the crazy red hair and splatter of freckles and think good thoughts about myself, but that's who I am. That's who I always will be (unless plastic surgery is involved). If I believe that I am beautiful, then I am. No matter what anyone says differently.

xoxo, the little birdy.