Who am I?
I suppose this is a question that I should answer. I like to think of myself as a person with a big heart. A person who strives to make others happy. A person that someone appreciates.
I know that I am a complex person. Some people may see me as a cold, cruel person; others see me as an outgoing, bubble of joy. There are some that see me as the doormat that they will continually walk over. I will admit that I am naive and I trust too easily. I guess I just want to believe that people are good, even though they aren't. I really just have a poor judgment of character.
Growing up, I was your typical kid. Grew up in a middle class family. Was the fourth of five kids. Had a father who worked for the railroad and a mother who was a stay-at-home mom. We grew up in a religious home and went to church every Sunday. I even went to Catholic school. I grew up in a neighborhood filled with kids my age, which was good. We would all hang out during the summer playing "Hide-and-Go-Seek", "Kick the Can" and even "Swinging Statue". On those nights that were unbearably hot, we would just sit on the hill, and talk. We laughed and smiled until the lightning bugs called us home for the night. Life was grand.
I do believe that once I hit my preteens, my look on life changed. My life wasn't as care-free as it was when I was younger. Once I hit puberty, my self-esteem plummeted. I wasn't the prettiest kid in the neighborhood. I had uncontrollable hair, thick eyebrows, big ears, and no sense of fashion. This just happened to be the same time that the boys in the neighborhood starting noticing us girls. Life wasn't so grand when this started to happen.
There were three of us girls in the neighborhood that were really close. We did everything together and honestly to this day, I still consider them my best friends. My closest friend at that time used to play this game, "Who is the Prettiest?". She would ask the guys in the neighborhood who they thought was prettier, me or her. Of course, they always chose her and then they would follow up with "Diana is kinda ugly, why would I choose her?" They knew I heard their response, which made it hurt more. My friends did not care how they made me feel. But then again, maybe they were just being honest? Every time the question was asked and then answered, I wanted to run home and cry because it hurt me so much. Every time the guys would choose her, I felt like I was sucker-punched in the gut. When I would go home for the evening, I would cry myself to sleep. The following morning, I would wake up, look at myself in the mirror and tell myself how ugly I was. I never saw anything beautiful about myself because all I heard was how ugly I was.
I can remember the different times growing up when even my own family would say things to make my esteem issues even worse. My aunt gave me the name "Ugly" and how I believed her. Every time she came into town, she would give me a hug and say "There's Ugly. How are you doing?" The happiness that I would feel seeing a family member would fade into a slight depression. I never understood why my aunt would always call me ugly. She had kids of her own. How would she not know how much these words would break a girl's heart? My dad wasn't much better. No matter what I did to make him happy, he would tell me something negative. Every Thanksgiving, he would kick me out of the kitchen and would tell me "Little children should be seen and not heard." To this day, I don't think he realizes how much those words hurt me. I always assumed that he wasn't proud of me as his daughter. I know now that wasn't the case, but back in the day, I thought otherwise. No matter how hard I tried to make him proud of me, every comment he made about me was negative. When I would look in the mirror before going to school, he would tell me my hair looked like a rat's nest. Even the night of my prom, the one night where I was confident in the way that I looked, he couldn't give me one compliment. He told me my dress was unflattering and that I looked fat. I was 5'8 and weighed 125. I was a size 6. I was no where near fat, but he made me feel fat. I didn't even enjoy my prom because I secretly thought that others at my prom thought I was fat. My date and I were only there for dinner and pictures. I couldn't wait to escape from the dress.
For some reason in my teen years, I always cared how others thought of me. I did feel like an outcast during high school. I had a small group of friends that I hung out with, but I was never brave enough to talk to people outside of my group unless absolutely necessary. For some reason, I always felt that I was unworthy to join a conversation.
Things did improve a bit once I joined the military. I am amazed how much the military made me grow as a person. I regained confidence in myself and in others. Instead of having a friend who would always compare me to her, I made friends who didn't try to compete with me. We were equals. Although I was able to trust my women friends, my male friends were quite different. Through many upsets, broken hearts, tears and failures, I learned that my heart, when given, wasn't appreciated. Because of this, it was hard for me to trust. And if I did trust someone, I would soon regret it. I learned my lessons the hard way, but honestly, I believe it made me stronger.
I look at my self in the mirror as I write this. I am confident. I am strong. I am honest with my words. However, one day I will look in the mirror and see my true beauty. I will also look in the mirror and see who I really am...
I suppose this is a question that I should answer. I like to think of myself as a person with a big heart. A person who strives to make others happy. A person that someone appreciates.
I know that I am a complex person. Some people may see me as a cold, cruel person; others see me as an outgoing, bubble of joy. There are some that see me as the doormat that they will continually walk over. I will admit that I am naive and I trust too easily. I guess I just want to believe that people are good, even though they aren't. I really just have a poor judgment of character.
Growing up, I was your typical kid. Grew up in a middle class family. Was the fourth of five kids. Had a father who worked for the railroad and a mother who was a stay-at-home mom. We grew up in a religious home and went to church every Sunday. I even went to Catholic school. I grew up in a neighborhood filled with kids my age, which was good. We would all hang out during the summer playing "Hide-and-Go-Seek", "Kick the Can" and even "Swinging Statue". On those nights that were unbearably hot, we would just sit on the hill, and talk. We laughed and smiled until the lightning bugs called us home for the night. Life was grand.
I do believe that once I hit my preteens, my look on life changed. My life wasn't as care-free as it was when I was younger. Once I hit puberty, my self-esteem plummeted. I wasn't the prettiest kid in the neighborhood. I had uncontrollable hair, thick eyebrows, big ears, and no sense of fashion. This just happened to be the same time that the boys in the neighborhood starting noticing us girls. Life wasn't so grand when this started to happen.
There were three of us girls in the neighborhood that were really close. We did everything together and honestly to this day, I still consider them my best friends. My closest friend at that time used to play this game, "Who is the Prettiest?". She would ask the guys in the neighborhood who they thought was prettier, me or her. Of course, they always chose her and then they would follow up with "Diana is kinda ugly, why would I choose her?" They knew I heard their response, which made it hurt more. My friends did not care how they made me feel. But then again, maybe they were just being honest? Every time the question was asked and then answered, I wanted to run home and cry because it hurt me so much. Every time the guys would choose her, I felt like I was sucker-punched in the gut. When I would go home for the evening, I would cry myself to sleep. The following morning, I would wake up, look at myself in the mirror and tell myself how ugly I was. I never saw anything beautiful about myself because all I heard was how ugly I was.
I can remember the different times growing up when even my own family would say things to make my esteem issues even worse. My aunt gave me the name "Ugly" and how I believed her. Every time she came into town, she would give me a hug and say "There's Ugly. How are you doing?" The happiness that I would feel seeing a family member would fade into a slight depression. I never understood why my aunt would always call me ugly. She had kids of her own. How would she not know how much these words would break a girl's heart? My dad wasn't much better. No matter what I did to make him happy, he would tell me something negative. Every Thanksgiving, he would kick me out of the kitchen and would tell me "Little children should be seen and not heard." To this day, I don't think he realizes how much those words hurt me. I always assumed that he wasn't proud of me as his daughter. I know now that wasn't the case, but back in the day, I thought otherwise. No matter how hard I tried to make him proud of me, every comment he made about me was negative. When I would look in the mirror before going to school, he would tell me my hair looked like a rat's nest. Even the night of my prom, the one night where I was confident in the way that I looked, he couldn't give me one compliment. He told me my dress was unflattering and that I looked fat. I was 5'8 and weighed 125. I was a size 6. I was no where near fat, but he made me feel fat. I didn't even enjoy my prom because I secretly thought that others at my prom thought I was fat. My date and I were only there for dinner and pictures. I couldn't wait to escape from the dress.
For some reason in my teen years, I always cared how others thought of me. I did feel like an outcast during high school. I had a small group of friends that I hung out with, but I was never brave enough to talk to people outside of my group unless absolutely necessary. For some reason, I always felt that I was unworthy to join a conversation.
Things did improve a bit once I joined the military. I am amazed how much the military made me grow as a person. I regained confidence in myself and in others. Instead of having a friend who would always compare me to her, I made friends who didn't try to compete with me. We were equals. Although I was able to trust my women friends, my male friends were quite different. Through many upsets, broken hearts, tears and failures, I learned that my heart, when given, wasn't appreciated. Because of this, it was hard for me to trust. And if I did trust someone, I would soon regret it. I learned my lessons the hard way, but honestly, I believe it made me stronger.
I look at my self in the mirror as I write this. I am confident. I am strong. I am honest with my words. However, one day I will look in the mirror and see my true beauty. I will also look in the mirror and see who I really am...
You have and have always been a beautiful woman. Inside and out. And dear God above I pray I am not the girl who compared. I don't recall it being me. But who knows. Kids are jerks. Me included. Oh and Pss the boys in the neighborhood weren't so hot either. :-).
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