November 14, 2010/November 25, 2010

It's all changed. What this used to be, to what it is now. It's sick. I started this to try to figure out if I can believe I am beautiful without looking beautiful. To figure out if what I have inside me (what God gave me) is enough. And I've turned it into a game. The same game as last year, actually, with different rules. "Try to look as beautiful as you can without wearing makeup." I've limited myself to that. Except, in every other aspect, i've excelled. I buy more clothes, I play with my hair, I eat less. All because I still so desperately want to be physically beautiful. I lack in height, and I believe that is my biggest flaw. It's certainly what I hate most of myself. So I try to be beautiful in order for people to get past the fact that I look like a child. But it doesn't work.

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I stopped there. I got distracted or too sad to go on. I just finished watching a Taylor Swift special on TV. Love that girl. I was looking at her life. Her stories. Her heart. And, her makeup. And was jealous of it all. I cried, praying desperately that I could write music and live a life of heartbreak and adventure. I saw the movie Tangled tonight, which really touched my heart. This child is kept in a tower, being told it's for her own protection, when finally, she breaks free. It terrifies her. It excites her. There's a line she says, when she is exactly where she wanted to be. I am going to butcher it big time, but it was something like, "This is my dream. Here it is. I'm terrified. What if it isn't what I wanted it to be? And...what if it is?"

I am tired of sitting in my room, crying about the life I'm not living. I'm tired of being scared to talk to someone I don't know. I'm tired of living in one city and working at minimum wage. And most of all, I'm honestly tired of being bound by not wearing make up. Therefore, I do believe, I am ending one month early. This is killing me. This fast was supposed to give me freedom, but instead it's kept me bound by my looks. I just want to feel like a real person. Wearing makeup or not wearing make up isn't what is going to make me know I am beautiful. It's a heart thing that I have yet to fully grasp. And I am not going to kill myself, crying, frowning, sadly that I can't play dress up.

What I've learned is that it's possible to survive without make up. And that I miss it a lot. It's fun to play with; it's fun to create. What I've also learned is that my beauty is way beyond anything physical, yet, learning that, and really knowing that has nothing to do with what I am doing or what I am not doing, but where my heart is. My heart has yet to fully experience beauty. And that's okay. Someday it will, whether I happen to be sporting bright red lips or a pale naked face. Real beauty is more than that. I feel there's nothing I can say without rolling my eyes at the complete cheesiness. But it's true. And I'm not sure how to end this post. I kind of seeing it being done hesitantly and sloppily, like this fast.

Yet oddly enough, beautifully.

November 3, 2010

I am sincerely over this. Could ya tell?

I feel as the days go on my face is getting wearier and colorless. My smile is fading as well.

Two more months. Aye.

October 9th, 2010

Things are worse. Not wearing make up has made me feel less beautiful in every way. I have lowered my self worth and forcibly wear jeans and an oversized tshirt, or sweats as often as possible because it is the only thing I can pull off (hardly, actually). I throw my hair up in a bun because it's easy and sloppy and out of the way instead of actually trying to look nice and failing. My face. Has worsened me. It's somehow gotten dirtier and acne has formed in places that used to be clean as day. I'm angry right now. I am bitter, upset, and ugly. My closet, my floor, and my additional clothing rack has been collecting new pieces every weekend "Maybe if I have these things, I'll feel better, prettier somehow." Nope. I hardly wear any of them. I revert to my go-tos (big tshirt and comfy pants). I do not feel beautiful at all. I think less of myself. I believe I am less attractive, never classy, never sexy. I hardly feel like a girl. I feel gross and dirty. This fast is failing me. It was a bad idea. I hate myself for it.

I stand next to my friend in line at the store as a lady tells her in a rough hispanic acent, "You go to hollywood and make movies. You are so beautiful." As I smile and nod from behind. The lady looks over at me, insincerely, and only to be courtious, "Both of you." Yeah, right. Nice cover up. I know I'm not pretty. Not that pretty. Not "go to hollywood and make movies" pretty. (Though ironically, that is what I want to do...only behind the camera, cause let's face it - I can't handle adding another 10 pounds...)

I don't smile more. I don't know why I wrote that before. I guess what I meant was, I try to smile more. I know smiling more would help. But I'm not happy. I'm miserable. Miserably homely. Disgusted with myself.

This isn't healthy. I feel ashamed looking at myself makeupless, and I will feel ashamed if I break the fast too early.

But honestly, none of it matters. Dressing up. Wearing makeup. When it comes to me and my mess, it has never mattered. I was hardly liked when I did wear make up. And without it. It's pretty much the same, with less surfacey compliments.

It's about learning to love yourself, right?

Bullshit. I'm lightyears away from that.

So. Lost cause, I'm gonna call it.

Lost cause.

Friday October 1, 2010

Feeling ugly wouldn't be so hard

if I weren't so...ugly.

Thursday September 29, 2010

I miss being pretty. I miss feeling pretty.

Wednesday September 1, 2010

(I day dream of January when I'll be able to have blacker eyelashes and redder lips. But I'm scared I will still cry. And I will still not accept myself.)

I have four months left and what have I learned? I have learned that I can survive without makeup. And that everyone is prettier when they smile. I have learned that. Even myself. I can get away without wearing makeup, when I smile. It surprises me really. And I've learned how sadly insecure so many other girls remain. I would in no way call myself confident in appearance just yet, but I have come to some contentment. Not wearing makeup is not the end of the world. It's not even that terrible. And more often than we think, other people aren't thinking about what our faces look like. In fact, more often then we think, other people still think we're beautiful. I have learned that. "I honestly can't even tell you're not wearing make up." Which in my head, I could go the negative route and think "Well, then, obviously, I'm just ugly no matter what." But that's not true. What is true is what people (that love me) have said. No, what God has said. What He has made. And what they are saying, what He is saying, what He has made, is beauty. They mean compliments in telling me they couldn't tell. They couldn't tell because they don't care. And let me explain. In my saying they don't care, I mean...they don't care what I look like. Really. They can compliment me when I look nicer or cuter or prettier, but if I don't, will they stop loving me? Will they stop caring for me? Not at all. Not even an ounce. I like dressing up. I like playing with clothes and make up. And I have a good chunk of friends who like the same thing. And they like having that in common with me. But I am confident that if I completely stopped dressing up, doing my hair, and looking pretty, that they would still love me. It would not be a huge loss on the scale of who I am. Because I am not my clothes. I am not my hair. I am not my face. I am my heart and soul. And that is what they really love.

And that is what I am really learning.

And that is what I really want the whole world to learn.

One of the most beautiful girls I know broke my heart this weekend when she had just gotten out of the shower, cleaned her face, and put on her PJs. She was waiting for her friend to come over. A female friend. Her friend called and said her and her guy friend were on their way. As soon as my friend got off the phone she said "Oh no. I didn't know she was bringing a guy, ah!" And she immediately changed into jeans and put makeup on her face. "Why?!" I said and thought both very loudly. I could not understand one bit. And realized, "This has changed me." Eight months ago, I would have done just the same thing. Eight months ago, I DID do the same thing. I was over at my guy friends apt and I went home to take a shower. I got out. Got dressed. Put my hair in 70s style braids and applied makeup to my face. Only to spend, maybe twenty more minutes with them? Eight months ago, I could not leave the house without covering my blemishes, brightening up my cheeks, thickening my lashes. And now, I go spend every day with a clean face, completely vulnerable, often sad about it, but I do it. And I smile more. Because smiling is my beauty. And I used to hardly ever smile. Because I just didn't feel like it. And the makeup helped.

But now I smile.

And I am realizing, I am learning. I have changed. Though not entirely, I have.

And that is beautiful.

August 15, 2010

An Ugly Year. A very very very Ugly Year. I am so over this. I am depressed and disgusted with myself. I am SO over this.