“ She’s So Ugly” My Lifelong Battle with Feeling Unpretty
How I Finally Saw My True Beauty When I Reached My Mid-Thirties
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The air in the dimly lit living room was filled with the warmth of laughter. The sound of my daddy’s hearty chuckles mingled with the sweet, innocent giggles of my younger siblings. They huddled around him like fireflies drawn to a warm summer night, their eyes wide with wonder as he spun tales and jokes that seemed to them like magic. I watched from the fringes, a little girl of eleven or twelve, yearning to join their luminous circle.
Desperate to feel included, I mustered up the courage to laugh, even though I didn’t quite understand the punchline. I joined in with my laughter, its sound resembling one of the hyenas from The Lion King, adding an unusual and somewhat comical twist to the family’s joyous symphony. But then, as quickly as my laughter had emerged, it was silenced by a venomous arrow.
My daddy turned his gaze towards me. His jaundiced eyes held a scowl of disdain, and he spoke with cruel words. “Shut yo ugly self up, clown,” he spat, marking the first time he had ever directed such hurtful words at me. Our already strained relationship, which had been brewing since I was six, had reached a new low.
Ouch.
The sharp sting of tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them back, trying to shield my wounded pride. It wasn’t the first time someone had called me ugly, the kids at school were calling me ugly a lot by now, but it was the first time I truly felt it. It was as though those harsh words had etched themselves into the core of my being, triumphantly claiming territory as they embedded themselves within the deepest recesses of my subconscious mind.
If my very own daddy, the man who was supposed to be my supporter and protector, couldn’t see beauty in me, then the painful conclusion began to solidify within my heart: It must undeniably be true.
My mama was in the kitchen, her silhouette swaying to the rhythm of pots and pans. She was unaware of the verbal assault that had just transpired in her own living room. Hurt, confused, and desperate to escape, I retreated from the heartache into the sanctuary of my room.
There, I cocooned myself within the makeshift fort of blankets and pillows that I had carefully constructed over my bed. The soft, faded cotton embraced me like a protective shield, shielding me from the harsh world beyond. I lay there, swallowed by the warmth of my sanctuary, tears silently streaming down my cheeks.
At that moment, I retreated further into the world of my maladaptive daydreams, where I could imagine myself as the most beautiful girl in the world. There, amongst the swirling fantasies, I could escape the pain of reality and take refuge in the realm of my own imagination, where I was the radiant star of my own story.
In the years that followed, as I ventured into the tumultuous terrain of middle and high school, the bullying intensified. It seemed as if my mere presence was an open invitation for ridicule. The boys, fueled by cruelty and immaturity, would gather in packs, laughing loudly as they rated me a zero whenever the question arose: “Would you date her?” Their laughter was like a dagger to my fragile self-esteem.
One chilling incident remains etched in my memory like a dark scar. There was a day when summoning every ounce of courage within me, I dared to stand up for myself. When a boy, with a sneer of contempt, openly declared his desire to “knock my ugly ass out,” it felt as if the world around me had momentarily frozen.
It had been an audacious act on my part, daring to rate him a zero in response to his unyielding mockery. But his retaliatory threat, dripping with venom, was a stark reminder of the hostile environment I navigated daily. The echoes of his words reverberated in my mind, a cruel testament to the unrelenting torment I endured, even when I summoned the strength to push back.
The girls, on the other hand, were equally merciless. They reinforced their belief in my supposed ugliness with cutting remarks about the texture of my hair, deeming it “nappy” with disdain in their voices. Each insult, each taunt, chipped away at whatever remnants of self-confidence I clung to.
*Using the word ugly to describe someone or something should be banned and illegal in my opinion. *
Graduating from high school marked a pivotal moment in my life. It was my ticket out of that small, suffocating town that had been a breeding ground for my insecurities. As I ventured into the wider world, far from the taunts and jeers of my past, I began to discover a newfound sense of confidence.
With each step I took, I explored my style, shedding the weight of the judgments that had haunted me for so long. As I embraced my individuality, I started receiving compliments from people who saw the beauty in me that I had struggled to recognize. For the first time, I genuinely believed that I was pretty.
But life has a way of testing newfound confidence. Soon after, I found myself pregnant, with my then-boyfriend expressing a disturbing sentiment that shattered the fragile veneer of self-assuredness I had built. He callously told me that our baby had better not come out “ugly,” as if the entirety of our child’s appearance would be my responsibility. His words were like a sharp dagger to my heart, a painful reminder that the ghosts of my past could resurface at any moment to haunt me.
My journey toward self-confidence became an erratic rollercoaster ride, with highs and lows that seemed to mirror the turbulence of my life. After the blow from my ex-boyfriend’s insensitive comment during my first pregnancy, I continued to wrestle with self-esteem issues in my twenties.
In 2019 I experienced a harrowing turn after giving birth to my last child when I was diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia. It was an experience that nearly cost me my life and left me profoundly shaken.
My reflection in the mirror was a haunting testament to the tumultuous journey I had endured. My skin, once vibrant and full of life, had lost its luster, taking on a pallid, ashen hue. Shadows seemed to cling beneath my eyes, casting a tired and hollow gaze back at me. I bore the weight of an invisible burden, and every aspect of my appearance conveyed the sense of having narrowly escaped the clutches of death, a feeling that permeated my very soul.
But the last crushing blow came when a woman, a Facebook acquaintance who damn it, I thought was a good virtual friend, took it upon herself to demean me. She saw my then-boyfriend in a store and felt comfortable enough to speak ill of me, questioning what others saw in me, and cruelly declaring that I had a nice body but was “so ugly.” It wasn’t just her hurtful words that stung; it was the fact that my boyfriend allowed her to berate me without defending me or shutting down her insults.
Looking back, it’s clear to me that her words stemmed from envy, and she likely harbored feelings for my ex as well. It saddens me to think that she felt the need to tear apart another woman in order to boost her own self-esteem.
It took time, but I eventually realized that my boyfriend exhibited a slew of narcissistic tendencies that had clouded my judgment for too long. I had been naïve, unable to recognize the toxicity I was engulfed in. The scars of these experiences ran deep, and while my journey toward self-acceptance was far from linear, I was determined to break free from the shackles of insecurity and emerge stronger, no longer defined by the cruel judgments of others.
In 2021, after years of inner turmoil and self-doubt, I found myself at a crossroads, and I made the conscious choice to embark on a journey of self-discovery and healing. It was a pivotal moment in my life, one where I decided to take control of my own narrative and rewrite it with self-love and acceptance.
As I delved into this transformative process, I began by listening to subconscious reprogramming, reciting affirmations daily, and letting go of toxic influences that had held me back for far too long. Shedding those negative voices from my life was liberating, and it created space for me to truly appreciate and cherish the person I was becoming.
I discovered the beauty in my own uniqueness. My wide nose, my full lips, and my eyes that seemed to change shape with my moods were not flaws but unique features that made me who I was. My dark skin, once a source of insecurity, now glistened in the sunlight when I applied coconut oil, radiating a natural, unmatched glow. My smile, though not the whitest or boasting the straightest teeth, had a warmth that could light up even the darkest room.
My hair, ever-changing in texture and style, became a symbol of my adaptability, a reminder of my ability to transform and embrace different aspects of myself. But above all, it was the inner light, the essence of my being, that shone the brightest. I had been hurt deeply, but I refused to let that pain spill onto others. I became meticulous in the way I communicated with people, choosing kindness and empathy as my guiding principles.
This journey was not without its challenges, but it led me to the profound realization that I was no longer willing to be defined by the cruel judgments of others. Instead, I had chosen the path of self-acceptance and self-love, and in doing so, I had unearthed the beauty that had always resided within me.
Your unique beauty shines brightest when you embrace and celebrate the one-of-a-kind masterpiece that is YOU. ✨🫶🏾
The end.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and for journeying with me through the trials and transformations of my life. It means more than words can express to have you by my side as I recount the chapters of my personal growth.
As you’ve immersed yourself in my narrative, I’d love to hear your thoughts and reflections. How do you perceive your own self-image? Have you ever found yourself believing the judgments and criticisms of others about your appearance? What strategies or realizations have helped you embrace your unique beauty and build self-confidence?
Our experiences and perceptions of self can be profoundly shaped by external influences, and sharing our stories can illuminate the common threads that bind us together in our quests for self-acceptance and self-love.
Sending you love and light,
Octavia Ever After
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