![Wow, It’s Wednesday: The Things I Used To Hate About Myself [Win a 32 Candles Tote Bag!]](https://fierceandnerdy.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/littleetc.jpg)
Wow, It’s Wednesday: The Things I Used To Hate About Myself [Win a 32 Candles Tote Bag!]
A lot of 32 CANDLES is about reconciling the kid you were with the adult you’ve become. And it occurred to me the other day that other than my chronic case of foot-in-mouth disease, most of the things that I hated about myself as a kid are now the things that I love the most.
When I was a child all I wanted was to have super-straight and long hair, a better personality (my general strangeness was like friend repellant), and most of all, skin that wasn’t dark. Light-skin would have been best, but I would have settled for brown, or even just not being the darkest girl in my elementary school classroom.
Well, I ended up getting a perm, only to cut it out and go natural at the age of 17. As it
turned out, relaxers were expensive and a lot of work, and I didn’t have time, money or energy like that. So, I went with the much-easier natural, and eventually moved on to dreadlocks at the age of 21.
Funnily enough, my locks got so long, that they became a lot of work, too (hard to clean, hard to style, hard to manage unless I pulled them back and out of the way). So I cut those off, too, and now I’m once again rocking a natural — ie a wonderful style that I could have easily maintained when I was a kid and just hated my kinky hair.
As for my personality problems, those were solved, too. When I was a kid I went through several phases of trying to reshape myself into someone that other kids would like. I tried dressing like people I saw on TV, catering to the popular kids, and lying to fit in or stand out. As you might have imagined, all of these attempts at personality-modification backfired horribly, and I remained unpopular until I struck upon a solution so perfect that to this day, I wish I had figured it out sooner. I just accepted that I was unpopular and started being myself: loud, obnoxious, nerdy, and strange . Lo and behold, this solution won me a ton of quality friends. I doubt I’ll ever be in the position of just scads and scads of people liking me, but I think it’s better to know that those who do like you, like your for yourself, and those who don’t probably aren’t people you’d want as friends anyway. Oh, and all that lying I did as a kid was a nice little primer for my writing career, so hoorays all around.
Last but not least, I can’t quite put my finger on when I began to not just be okay with but completely adore my dark skin. Maybe it was my late teens or my early twenties, but somewhere along the line, the aesthetic quality that used to make me heart-cringely different became my best feature. I love that I tend to stand out in an LA crowd. I love that colors really pop on me. I love the kind of men who have been attracted to me here in America: usually kind, deep thinkers who operate outside the box and don’t let the MSM dictate to them who should be considered beautiful — my husband being the best of them. I love that I’m rarely told by others that they have another friend who looks just like me. To simplify, I just love the skin I’m in.
So hair, personality, and skin — those are the things that I used to hate about myself when I was a kid, but am totally in love with now. How about you? Tell us what you used to not like about yourself but now rock with pride. One comment will be featured in next week’s Wednesday column and (drumroll please) the writer will get a 32 Candles tote bag.
100% Yay!
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Ernessa, it's no wonder we're friends. I could pretty much just copy your list. When I was a very little kid, I didn't understand why I didn't always have friends and by the time I realized that I was 'different' (which, let's just accept, turns out to mean 'smarter'), I was also lying, trying to fit in. There were so many things I pretended to like or not have an opinion on just so I could be part of the conversation. I would even purposefully not answer every question in class because I didn't want the other kids to feel dumb and then not like me.
Now I love that I'm different. And I love that I've found other people just like me who are happy to be my friend and enjoy my off-kilter personality and general quirkiness. And I never hide my smarts under a bushel — if you can't keep up, then that's not my problem.
I was also never comfortable in my skin — always a little overweight and never as pretty/stylish/confident as the other girls. I'll have to let you know when that one turns around, but for the sake of my daughter, I'm really working on it.
Yeah, we were sitting around in grad school class once (I think after you graduated) and pretty much figured out that we all lied as kids. Now whenever I hear some mom fretting that her kid tells lies, I'm like, "Future writer!"
Yeah, we were sitting around in grad school class once (I think after you graduated) and pretty much figured out that we all lied as kids. Now whenever I hear some mom fretting that her kid tells lies, I'm like, "Future writer!"
Ernessa, it's no wonder we're friends. I could pretty much just copy your list. When I was a very little kid, I didn't understand why I didn't always have friends and by the time I realized that I was 'different' (which, let's just accept, turns out to mean 'smarter'), I was also lying, trying to fit in. There were so many things I pretended to like or not have an opinion on just so I could be part of the conversation. I would even purposefully not answer every question in class because I didn't want the other kids to feel dumb and then not like me.
Now I love that I'm different. And I love that I've found other people just like me who are happy to be my friend and enjoy my off-kilter personality and general quirkiness. And I never hide my smarts under a bushel — if you can't keep up, then that's not my problem.
I was also never comfortable in my skin — always a little overweight and never as pretty/stylish/confident as the other girls. I'll have to let you know when that one turns around, but for the sake of my daughter, I'm really working on it.
Yeah, we were sitting around in grad school class once (I think after you graduated) and pretty much figured out that we all lied as kids. Now whenever I hear some mom fretting that her kid tells lies, I'm like, "Future writer!"
Yeah, we were sitting around in grad school class once (I think after you graduated) and pretty much figured out that we all lied as kids. Now whenever I hear some mom fretting that her kid tells lies, I'm like, "Future writer!"
I grew up in Texas in the '70's and '80's where having a tan was mandatory. My poor complexion never had a chance. I am extremely fair- and it was all made worse with the huge amount of freckles on every part of my body, including my hair part. I tended to look like Jan Brady without glasses- not the smooth tanned Marcia all the kids were aspiring to.
When I was 10, I went through every book in the library looking for a remedy, and sadly even Judy Blume's "Freckle Juice" didn't give a formula that worked.
I'd suffer "laying out" by the pool with baby oil on, dreaming of a tan, and always in horrible pain for a week after with severe burns, each time thinking this was something I would grow out of, or better yet, that if I burned enough, all my freckles would merge and I'd have a permanent tan!
NO such luck.
Somewhere in college I think I changed. I moved back to Cali where people are doing everything to keep cancer out of their bodies and be healthy individuals. The "freak"les I grew to love that they made me unique and found that they were a magnet for other freaks I was already attracted to.
Oh Tamlyn, freckles are the BEST, and I can't believe there was ever a time when they were unpopular. It's one of physical traits that I most hope Betty inherits from her dad's side of the family, because they're just so adorable. It's funny though, how a lot of people out here have stories of misfit youths that end with "and then I moved to LA." It love that LA is totally the Island of Misfit Toys.
I grew up in Texas in the '70's and '80's where having a tan was mandatory. My poor complexion never had a chance. I am extremely fair- and it was all made worse with the huge amount of freckles on every part of my body, including my hair part. I tended to look like Jan Brady without glasses- not the smooth tanned Marcia all the kids were aspiring to.
When I was 10, I went through every book in the library looking for a remedy, and sadly even Judy Blume's "Freckle Juice" didn't give a formula that worked.
I'd suffer "laying out" by the pool with baby oil on, dreaming of a tan, and always in horrible pain for a week after with severe burns, each time thinking this was something I would grow out of, or better yet, that if I burned enough, all my freckles would merge and I'd have a permanent tan!
NO such luck.
Somewhere in college I think I changed. I moved back to Cali where people are doing everything to keep cancer out of their bodies and be healthy individuals. The "freak"les I grew to love that they made me unique and found that they were a magnet for other freaks I was already attracted to.
Oh Tamlyn, freckles are the BEST, and I can't believe there was ever a time when they were unpopular. It's one of physical traits that I most hope Betty inherits from her dad's side of the family, because they're just so adorable. It's funny though, how a lot of people out here have stories of misfit youths that end with "and then I moved to LA." It love that LA is totally the Island of Misfit Toys.
I think everyone felt the same in highschool. So funny. I hated being skinny and I hated that I didnt have a big butt like the popular girls and I felt like I had too much hair. Weird huh? Funny enough I wished I was light skinned. Well I filled out in all the right places and found out that the thick girls in highschool are a bit plump now, not that there is anything wrong with that plumpness is just not for me. Now people tell me my hair is bueatiful although I do keep it short. And I realized that I have great skin, its like my mother's. I also thought about how we spend so much time not liking how we look, and it is an insult to our parents because we are products of them. I look like my mother and she is beautiful.
That's so funny, Shawna! I thought you were GORGEOUS in high school and also thought you had great skin. It's interesting to think that maybe we all felt different and like we didn't "fit in." But then who did "fit in?" It's like we were all in the same boat, but thought everyone else had it all figured out.
I think everyone felt the same in highschool. So funny. I hated being skinny and I hated that I didnt have a big butt like the popular girls and I felt like I had too much hair. Weird huh? Funny enough I wished I was light skinned. Well I filled out in all the right places and found out that the thick girls in highschool are a bit plump now, not that there is anything wrong with that plumpness is just not for me. Now people tell me my hair is bueatiful although I do keep it short. And I realized that I have great skin, its like my mother's. I also thought about how we spend so much time not liking how we look, and it is an insult to our parents because we are products of them. I look like my mother and she is beautiful.
That's so funny, Shawna! I thought you were GORGEOUS in high school and also thought you had great skin. It's interesting to think that maybe we all felt different and like we didn't "fit in." But then who did "fit in?" It's like we were all in the same boat, but thought everyone else had it all figured out.
My dad was in the Navy when I was a kid, so I never fit in anywhere, never really tried even because we'd always be moving in a while, so why bother. I wasn't a joiner and always felt invisible — too smart, too skinny, missed the events from before we moved to whatever city and wouldn't get to do the upcoming ones… The upside of being invisible and outside is that now I have a healthy disrespect for the "rules" — even in corporate world, I've been able to arrange my day much more to my liking. I think being able to assess a situation and understand what the "rules" of a particular group seem to be and then choose whether I want to abide by them is a real asset and something I'm really grateful I learned, as painful as it was at the time.
Di! It's funny, b/c I think that's exactly what makes for a good actress, the ability to be okay with sticking out, but also the ability to really observe those around you.
My dad was in the Navy when I was a kid, so I never fit in anywhere, never really tried even because we'd always be moving in a while, so why bother. I wasn't a joiner and always felt invisible — too smart, too skinny, missed the events from before we moved to whatever city and wouldn't get to do the upcoming ones… The upside of being invisible and outside is that now I have a healthy disrespect for the "rules" — even in corporate world, I've been able to arrange my day much more to my liking. I think being able to assess a situation and understand what the "rules" of a particular group seem to be and then choose whether I want to abide by them is a real asset and something I'm really grateful I learned, as painful as it was at the time.
Di! It's funny, b/c I think that's exactly what makes for a good actress, the ability to be okay with sticking out, but also the ability to really observe those around you.
I hated my red hair and freckles growing up. Anything that makes you stand out as a kid doesn't feel good. Adults loved my red hair, but kids had dumb nicknames for me. I eventually had one friend who took the nickname "Carrots" and went with it, so it wasn't a negative name anymore. She still calls me that.
I remember hearing that lemon juice faded freckles (which my mom called angel's kisses – yuck) so one night I rubbed lemon slices on my shoulders and arms and watched TV, waiting for them to fade. They didn't, and my mom was mad I used up all her lemons.
Now, I LOVE my hair color and am beginning to freak out that more and more white ones are cropping up. I don't know what I'll do when I'm more grey than red. There is no professional color that matches my carrot top. (And I don't even notice my freckles anymore.)
I hated my red hair and freckles growing up. Anything that makes you stand out as a kid doesn't feel good. Adults loved my red hair, but kids had dumb nicknames for me. I eventually had one friend who took the nickname "Carrots" and went with it, so it wasn't a negative name anymore. She still calls me that.
I remember hearing that lemon juice faded freckles (which my mom called angel's kisses – yuck) so one night I rubbed lemon slices on my shoulders and arms and watched TV, waiting for them to fade. They didn't, and my mom was mad I used up all her lemons.
Now, I LOVE my hair color and am beginning to freak out that more and more white ones are cropping up. I don't know what I'll do when I'm more grey than red. There is no professional color that matches my carrot top. (And I don't even notice my freckles anymore.)
You needed Anne of Green Gables!
My lips and my arms!
I always thought my top lip was much bigger than my bottom lip and it drove me nuts. Plus freshman year in high school the one brutha that shared social studies class with me and sat in the next row across from me happened to ask me one day "why is your top lip darker than your bottom lip". Now what was I supposed to say to that kind of inquiry? When I told my mom about it she said I should have asked him why he was paying so much close attention to them.
Thank god I actually grew into my lips and I finally felt somewhat pretty by college. It also helped that my freshman year in college I took an Ancient Egyptian art class and I saw a slide of what was left of an Egyptian bust of Nefertiti. It just showed the bottom half of her face with just her lovely smooth lips. They looked like mine and I thought they were beautiful.
As a big girl growing up in the 80's and 90's finding clothing was always a hassle. But nothing made me more self conscience than baring my upper arms. I thought they were big, ugly and I could swear you could see the stretch marks from outer space.
Making peace with my arms came much later in life (around age 25). I was going to the mall with a friend and was taking too long getting out of the car for her. Basically I was trying to dig out my sweater to cover myself up in the middle of July instead of rocking my tank top like the rest of the folks in California were doing. She demanded that I leave the sweater in the car. I seriously hesitated because I felt like I was walking in the mall completely naked and exposed. On our way in a group a guys started flirting with me and my friend said "See! I told you didn't need that stupid sweater".
I realized I was so busy being worried about people looking at me for the wrong reasons I was actually hiding one of the best parts of myself. After being liberated from my sweaters I have received lots of compliments about how soft my skin is from friends who have hugged me while sleeveless. I have also been randomly stroked by men in bars who apparently couldn't resist the allure of my silky milk chocolate biceps.
I am happy and loving myself now. I just wish it hadn't taken such a long journey to get there.
My lips and my arms!
I always thought my top lip was much bigger than my bottom lip and it drove me nuts. Plus freshman year in high school the one brutha that shared social studies class with me and sat in the next row across from me happened to ask me one day "why is your top lip darker than your bottom lip". Now what was I supposed to say to that kind of inquiry? When I told my mom about it she said I should have asked him why he was paying so much close attention to them.
Thank god I actually grew into my lips and I finally felt somewhat pretty by college. It also helped that my freshman year in college I took an Ancient Egyptian art class and I saw a slide of what was left of an Egyptian bust of Nefertiti. It just showed the bottom half of her face with just her lovely smooth lips. They looked like mine and I thought they were beautiful.
As a big girl growing up in the 80's and 90's finding clothing was always a hassle. But nothing made me more self conscience than baring my upper arms. I thought they were big, ugly and I could swear you could see the stretch marks from outer space.
Making peace with my arms came much later in life (around age 25). I was going to the mall with a friend and was taking too long getting out of the car for her. Basically I was trying to dig out my sweater to cover myself up in the middle of July instead of rocking my tank top like the rest of the folks in California were doing. She demanded that I leave the sweater in the car. I seriously hesitated because I felt like I was walking in the mall completely naked and exposed. On our way in a group a guys started flirting with me and my friend said "See! I told you didn't need that stupid sweater".
I realized I was so busy being worried about people looking at me for the wrong reasons I was actually hiding one of the best parts of myself. After being liberated from my sweaters I have received lots of compliments about how soft my skin is from friends who have hugged me while sleeveless. I have also been randomly stroked by men in bars who apparently couldn't resist the allure of my silky milk chocolate biceps.
I am happy and loving myself now. I just wish it hadn't taken such a long journey to get there.
It’s funny, b/c Smith, really influenced my perception of my beauty, too. I remember getting to BRIDGE and this Latina Smithie just informing me, “You’re beautiful!” I don’t think I’ve ever had higher self-esteem than when I was at Smith, which is why I really hope Betty decides to go.
I’m so glad your friend brought you out of your sweaters. Next week I’m planning to do a blog on learning to rock my post-pregnancy body, which is something I’ve definitely had to learn over the last few months.
Yeah Bridge and Smith were so good for me too. There is nothing more powerful than being around beautiful, smart and talented women who come in all shapes and sizes who applaud you for being who you are.
Remember when my little sister visited? She totally feel in love with you, Maxine and Monique.
I'm sure it was more Maxine and Monique. They're beyond awesome and I looked up to them both in college, even though we were the same age.
You needed Anne of Green Gables!
Oh, I love Anne of Green Gables! And Pippi Longstockings. I’m trying to figure out if there’s a redhead with freckles that I don’t like.
Anne of Green Gables is one of the best heroines of all time.
Lucy, usually I’m a proponent of just going grey, but in your case I think you’re going to have to color it, so that you can be old lady hot like my hero of old lady hot, Frances Fisher. Look at this vixen WORK her dye job: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm3609627136/nm0004920
No, that is just too fierce. You have no choice but to stay red, even if it’s not the same red. ‘Tis the burden of redheads everywhere I’m afraid.
I was tall, lanky and awkward.
Black girls had a field day with me. They talked about my shape, my long hair, my self-esteem. I quickly learned how to boast loudly about what I would do to the next girl who said I was stuck up, or acting white, or whatever I was doing that was so wrong. When that didn't work, I fought. My fighting strategy was the windmill. I just went in there with arms swinging. It worked, but almost too well. Teachers and principals suspend kids from school for fighting, and you can't get good grades if you aren't in school. That was what saved me in the end. I was on the smart track, and most of the girls who would think of bothering me weren't in my classes.
Today, I'm not all that tall, and I adore being a skinny mother of two. I am a journalist, which seems to attract awkward people in droves. Even the fighting part worked out. When someone underestimates me, I have no trouble standing up for myself. I usually get what I want and leave those folks wondering how it was they thought they were going to get over on me.
I love the windmill approach to fighting! And although in a perfect world, I would seek to eliminate tracking, in this one, I feel that it saved me and that it is totally needed — especially within the black community in which it often provides the only safe harbor for smart black girls and boys.
I was tall, lanky and awkward.
Black girls had a field day with me. They talked about my shape, my long hair, my self-esteem. I quickly learned how to boast loudly about what I would do to the next girl who said I was stuck up, or acting white, or whatever I was doing that was so wrong. When that didn't work, I fought. My fighting strategy was the windmill. I just went in there with arms swinging. It worked, but almost too well. Teachers and principals suspend kids from school for fighting, and you can't get good grades if you aren't in school. That was what saved me in the end. I was on the smart track, and most of the girls who would think of bothering me weren't in my classes.
Today, I'm not all that tall, and I adore being a skinny mother of two. I am a journalist, which seems to attract awkward people in droves. Even the fighting part worked out. When someone underestimates me, I have no trouble standing up for myself. I usually get what I want and leave those folks wondering how it was they thought they were going to get over on me.
I love the windmill approach to fighting! And although in a perfect world, I would seek to eliminate tracking, in this one, I feel that it saved me and that it is totally needed — especially within the black community in which it often provides the only safe harbor for smart black girls and boys.
oops I mean fell! lol.
Yeah Bridge and Smith were so good for me too. There is nothing more powerful than being around beautiful, smart and talented women who come in all shapes and sizes who applaud you for being who you are.
Remember when my little sister visited? She totally feel in love with you, Maxine and Monique.
I'm sure it was more Maxine and Monique. They're beyond awesome and I looked up to them both in college, even though we were the same age.
oops I mean fell! lol.
Anne of Green Gables is one of the best heroines of all time.