Ode to Rejection

LOVE LETTER

Growing up, I was the goofy face girl in pictures. Duck lips, tongue out, grumpy cat frown, cross-eyed, mid-scream. It was easier to intentionally look silly or downright bad than to try (and potentially fail) to look cute. I wanted to beat everyone to the punch. With my acne and crooked smile, it was safe to say I’d land firmly in the Not category in the Hot or Not reindeer games of middle school. And if I was going to look bad anyway, I might as well own it, right? Make it funny instead of tragic. It’s not humiliating if I’m like totally in on it. I rejected myself before anyone else had the chance to. Because then, at least, I’d have some control.

This was, of course, deluded. Rejecting myself before anyone else could didn’t actually make me feel better. And anyway, I was a cute kid! Sure, some of my peers didn’t think so and made it painfully known in games of MFK, but who cares?! Those weren’t the people for me anyway.

I remember feeling so cute taking this on my iPod Touch in 2011, but even though I felt pretty, I had to protect myself by making this “funny” face just in case anyone wanted to make fun of me for feeling good in my own skin.