When I was in 8th grade, my dad and I were in the car on the way to a sleepover and I asked him if I was pretty. He told me, “You will be. Someday.”
When I was younger, I didn’t pay attention to the differences between the other girls and me. I gravitated toward the humans who wanted to do what I wanted to do. I guess I mostly played with boys, but there were a few girls who wanted to make radio shows with me, play Adventure People, throw a football, and talk about feelings. But I never noticed that we looked different from each other. That never mattered to me. But, as 8th graders - when we were thrown into the high school - my mom decided that my masculine presenting days had to come to an end (little did she know). All of a sudden, I became both aware and ashamed of my looks.
I got to get my long hair cut in 5th grade because I finally took my mom up on her daily threat to cut all my hair off if I didn’t quit squirming when she was braiding it (she gave up on letting my long locks be free when I would come home with a tangled mess after roughhousing all day). I finally said, “OK.” This put her in an awkward position because she had to make a choice that she didn’t want to in order be consistent with her threat to “teach me a lesson.” I was never happier about anything then I was about cutting all of my hair off. In middle school I wore collar shirts under sweaters and sported my short hair. I got teased, but I felt like myself. But when I arrived in high school, as a “girl,” the jig was up and I was not allowed to have short hair anymore.
When 9th grade arrived, I was not allowed to leave the house without lipstick. No joke. By my senior year, I was fully feminine presenting. I wore girly clothes, painted my nails, wore makeup, and had long blonde, curly hair. I felt like I was in feminine drag. I tried really hard to be what other people wanted and needed me to be, but I never stopped feeling unseen, unaccepted, lonely, and miserable.
What my dad should have said (therapy has taught me to re-do these moments with what I would have said to myself), was that a lot of different factors go into beauty. That my heart was big, my brain was curious, and my intentions were kind. And that I was more than just pretty- I was beautiful.
And this is what I make sure that my students know. That their strengths and vulnerabilities are beautiful. I help them build their self-esteem since it is so connected to how we function in this world. How we talk to ourselves. How we allow others to treat us. It took me a long time to learn all of that, but now that I am aware and refuse to ever be codependent again, I am starting to build healthy and sustainable relationships.
I went back in time and told my 8th grade self that she is kind, sensitive, caring, and empathetic. And that she is, indeed, beautiful.
