Accepting Un-Pretty

I spent most of my childhood being teased mercilessly by my peers, both at school and at church.  I have always been the fat, freckle-faced, redheaded, unpopular kid.  I didn't play sports.  I didn't have any particularly enviable talents  I didn't come from a "rich" family.  I rarely ever had more than one or two "friends" at any given time.  It didn't take me long to understand that I have never fit into the mold of what common society considers to be physically beautiful.  I probably understood this fact by the time I had finished elementary school—although acceptance of this fact would come much, much later.

As I grew into adulthood, I learned that it didn't really matter that I'm not beautiful.  I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm passionate, and I'm a hard worker.  I have learned that I don't need a hundred "best" friends, and I'm honestly much happier with a smaller, closer circle of genuine friends.  I have learned that who I am is good enough, and that I'm worthy of love and friendship and respect.  I've learned that I don't need to be beautiful, and I've come to realize that I'm not sure I'd even want the pressure that would come attached to maintaining a beautiful me.

Working around middle schoolers, these past several years, has given me the opportunity to develop an entirely different perspective on being "un-pretty" by watching it unfold through the eyes of my students.  While it's not something I point out to them, I have students who do not fit into the "beautiful" category.  Some of them may never fit into that category, and there's really nothing that they can do about it.  While the "un-pretty" seems to afflict both male and female students, it is the girls I worry about the most.

The problem I see is this:

When a girl goes crying to her friends, parents, or teachers, telling them that she has been harassed or bullied by someone who said she was "ugly" or "fat" or some other such derogatory term, it is almost always handled wrongly.  The first reaction or these friends and parents and teachers is to comfort the girl—and rightly so—and then to say something like "Just ignore them.  You're beautiful no matter what they say."

We have got to stop telling girls crap like this!  Believe me when I tell you that if a girl is un-pretty, she's already well aware of it.  You telling her that she's "beautiful" isn't really going to change what she knows to be true.  Furthermore, by using this as the fix-all, we are continuing to tell girls that they have worth because they are beautiful, even when they aren't.  Not only are we reinforcing the misplaced importance put upon physical beauty, we are also preventing these girls from learning to be comfortable with who they are.

I think we would do far better to comfort the crying, picked-on girls using words that have nothing to do with beauty!

• "I'm sorry they said that to you.  It's a shame they don't realize what a great friend you are."
• "I'm sorry you have been disrespected.  No one deserves that."
• "I'm sorry that people said unkind things to you.  You are a valuable friend / student / member of this family, and I'm glad to know you."

There have got to be hundreds of things we can say to comfort someone that are more honest and place the emphasis back where it ought to be: on the goodness of a person's character and the kindness in their heart.  Let's give our children confidence based on something more genuine, something more lasting than physical beauty.  Let's focus on promoting generosity and loyalty.

I fully believe that one of our primary jobs as parents is to help our children build confidence and self-worth.  However, I also think we owe it to our children to teach them to value themselves for qualities that matter, qualities that go beyond skin deep and into the core of who they are.

I believe it's time that we accept the "un-pretty" we see, whether it be in the people around us or in the person looking back at us from the mirror.

**For the record, I feel I should say that, as an adult, I have come to accept—and even sometimes appreciate—my appearance.  I don't get sad when I look into the mirror, and I have learned that my thick, curly, red hair is something that many women are envious of.  This is not a post seeking attention, and I certainly don't need anyone trying to make me feel better (because I don't feel bad in the first place) by telling me that I am "beautiful."