so, i’d like to think that i used to be hot.
when i started high school, i remember asking a guy friend of mine if he thought i was beautiful. my mother has called me beautiful and so has my father. but, that’s kinda their job. they thought i was beautiful when i was covered in amniotic fluid and mucus. well, my mother did say i had a real awkward period but, at the time, she called me beautiful.
but, it’s different when the guy you’re attracted to calls you beautiful. it makes it more real. i wasn’t interested in my guy friend, but he wasn’t related to me so it was a step in the right direction. or so i thought. he told me no. that son of a bitch. if he had been a girl, he would have said, “totally! if i were a guy, i’d find you attractive for sure! and, you’re beautiful on the inside too.” but, since he lacked ovaries, there wasn’t a cloud of estrogen and lies to cushion the truth.
|me on the left|
the consolation prize he offered was that i was cute. and definitely sexy. he’d do me. okay. i can work with that. i’m about 5’8” and, in high school, i was about 145-155lbs. i waivered between sizes 8-10, mostly hips. and i fed my effortlessly flat stomach with chili cheese fries and cookies & cream ice cream. but, i still wanted to be beautiful because, in my mind, hot chicks get laid; beautiful girls get married. and i’ve wanted to get married since i was four years old.
as i got older, i guess i grew into my own. i found a guy who found me hot and beautiful. i was sooo happy. we were in love, y’all. then he left. and since i couldn’t let him go, i let me go. so, 45lbs later, i am no longer hot. and i’m barely cute anymore. granted, i still get stares and catcalls and compliments. but, i just figure guys call me cute and beautiful now because it might just land them in my pants with these hips.
|homecoming queen -90lbs|