The nerd in me

Mirror, mirror on the wall…

Growing up I never considered myself beautiful, especially as compared to other girls my age. I could say I was smart, persistent, capable… but not beautiful, no, that was not for me. Now, many years later, I still have my little moments when I feel there’s something missing. And I know it’s not just me. Be it beauty, skills, knowledge or something else, each and every one of us is far from perfect. And each and every one of us has the urge to hide the imperfections and shine among the rest. Movies, reality shows, magazines, social media display a picture-perfect mixture of celebrities and ordinary people, suggesting that it’s easy to be one of them. Simply hide the faults, change the angle, change the clothes, change yourself to fit in…

But will it work that way? True, you’ll look perfect and happy, and you’ll be accepted, sought after. But will that be enough for you to be happy? What if the door to the closet where you’ve so carefully hidden all your flaws, all your fears, all your scars, suddenly opens? Isn’t it easier to admit your weaknesses, your faults, your wounds – be it only to yourself, embrace them and start loving yourself – the complete perfect blend of strengths and weaknesses, of accomplishments and fails? No, that doesn’t mean to stop working on yourself, rather sign a peace treaty, then gather all the strength to master yourself to become the best version of you for your own sake, and then go conquer the world.

Do you remember that kid in your class or neighborhood that was always different from the other kids, likely quiet and never quite fit in? Well, one of those kids was me… When I was 10 I already had a taste of the fact that life was not always fair and not everyone was supposed to like me. I was a quiet, chubby and smart girl. Apparently, that wasn’t the right combination in the early stages of adolescence. Going to school every day was a nightmare. Coming home, to my safe heaven, I would burst into tears. I couldn’t believe my parents that all this didn’t matter. It felt as if my whole world was falling apart and I was there all alone fighting to survive.

Luckily, I managed to fix it myself just a couple of years later – changed my mindset, gathered all my stubbornness and started acting on a plan to become who I wanted to be, or at least make the first few steps for it’s not something to happen overnight. And, yes, damn it, initially I hoped that this would help me fit into a group and find real friends, which is quite the normal thing a 12 year old would want. But seeing the sudden transformation of those who used to dislike me made me realize a lot. For starters, I didn’t actually want to fit in their group anymore or be friends with such people. I had already learned how to be happy and promised myself never to lose this gift. It took many years and challenges to heal completely, or maybe to a great extent, because I know this is still one of my scars – the main reason why I would lose confidence at times or become suddenly quiet. Yet, I’m grateful for I wouldn’t have been the person I am now if I haven’t been through this. And it would have been a shame – I feel great in my own skin and love each and every one of my scars.

But it’s not all about me, is it? Any other kid would have reacted in a different way in my situation. Indeed, the best option would be if they are not affected at all, but for this purpose children should be taught among all the other things to accept and love themselves. I shudder at the possibility of becoming one of those who would reciprocate the aggression towards other kids or adults in the future, or one of those trying too hard to fit until losing touch with who I really am, or even losing myself in severe depression and taking my own life. No, fortunately that wasn’t me… But it’s not all about me, is it?

And as it turns out, my parents were right, it really doesn’t matter, but only now. Now, that I’ve healed… Now, that I’ve learnt to love and accept myself with all my tiny perfections and shiny imperfections. Now, that I’ve learnt that I hold the keys to changing myself, but it’s only worth it when I do it for me. Now, that I know it’s better to learn to be comfortable being the odd one out and stand my own ground rather than changing myself to compliment someone else’s perfect picture. Now, that I know I’m smart, persistent, capable and beautiful…

Now tell me what’s your scar...

PS: Please, never ever underestimate the battles your kids go through, whatever their age. What seems trivial to you, may in fact be fundamental for your little ones.

*Originally written in 2016, edited 2021-2022