Comments on: You Are Drop-Dead Gorgeous

By: Genie

Genie — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 23:28:40 +0000

I was told once, by a person who shall remain unnamed, as I was trying on outfits in a department store, that it was “good that I had such a healthy self-image,” but that the outfits I was trying on–the ones that were totally the hippest fashion at the time and the ones I thought I looked good in–looked plain terrible on my body type. It changed, utterly, how I looked at myself in that instant and, well, forever.

Another time, while hanging out with a careless boy, when we were both way too young to know better, he looked at me and said, “You know, in a weird sort of way, you’re pretty cute.” It was the strangest, most convoluted damning with faint praise I had ever received from a guy, and thought I tried mightily to take it graciously, it cut me to the quick.

There are other damaging voices in my head on this topic, some of them my own. Often, I wish they would just. Shut. Up. In the meantime, I repeat mantras, I try to write through it, and I try to take more steps forward toward a healthy self-image than I do backward and away from it.

By: Lorena

Lorena — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 19:58:33 +0000

My grandmother, G-ma, always told me I was beautiful. Nothing specific that I can remember, but to her I was a jewel, a princess, lovely. But louder was the voice of my Stepmonster, for whom I could do nothing right and never be pretty, poised, perfect enough. To G-ma I say thank you, I miss you, I love that you laid a foundation of joy and love in my life. For the Stepmonster I start to give a big middle finger to but remind myself that living well is the best revenge. My soft belly, my round thighs, my great ass, my funny freckles, these are beautiful because I am beautiful, and I am living well.

By: Mom

Mom — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 00:09:27 +0000

What a great post. Interesting that there have been no comments yet. Maybe none of us can remember something good an adult said about us when we were growing up?