The Perpetual Case Of The Uglies

I am about to rummage into my messy guts and reveal a slice of myself that I really, really don't like. It's a very boring slice. If I'm really going to break down barriers between us, I'll confess that this notion occupies at least 65% of my waking thoughts, and is slowly driving me in an unpleasant car over the edge and into the cliffs of madness. Ready for this?

I AM OBSESSED WITH HOW I LOOK.

I wear so much make up, I spend so much time on my hair, I want to wear nice outfits and look the best I possibly can every day so I feel better. Before I "prep" myself each day, I literally gaze into the mirror and go on a dreadful misery-go-round "eyelashes too small lips too big horrible chin no cheekbones hair won't curl properly and don't even START on my nose". Once I've worked the mascara wand, slicked on some lippy and curled my hair, I don't feel so bad. But when that hasn't happened, I can feel quite...well, yes, ugly, and that I am failing my only ever test in life. "NOOOOBOODY THINKS I'M HOT!" my brain cries like a pathetic, whiney gerbil. "And anybody who dates me will always wish they'd stuck around for a hot young minx from a lingerie ad instead of me, a hideous sea monster!" Oh yes. A tragic thought indeed.

Y'know what? I get that this isn't cool, really. As far as life tests go, being considered a "hot young minx" is the least important one I will ever face. In fact, I recall my mum once saying to me after days of self-indulgent whining "You've got a good life if all you have to worry about is how you look compared to other girls!" and of COURSE she is right, she is totally right! There are times when you get so caught up in measuring the exact length and width of your nostrils, you forget about the poor souls on earth who actually had their noses bitten off my chimps. You forget that worrying about your looks is a terrible waste of time and usage of brain space. In reality, I know that if my nose were actually smaller, my life would not improve drastically and suddenly I would be the object of envy for girls and lust for guys - I would have lost a potential weapon and an incredible sense of smell.

This isn't natural - whilst I firmly believe everyone suffer from it to an extent, my case feels extreme at times. I felt like this was a topic completely worthy of a blog, and with no pretences or sugar coats either. I read a lot of articles on self-esteem, and it grinds my gears when none of them tell the damn truth or give advice that doesn't make your eyes roll. None of them disclose the exact details of how crushing but utterly ridiculous this obsession with looks is. It is not just me who puts their self through a ridiculous regime each day just to feel less unsightly compared to other girls, to secure that their boyfriend still finds them attractive, to make their parents think they've not done too badly, even.

I want to see somebody openly confess that they spend a disproportionate amount of time trying to "fix" all that they see is "broken" in the mirror; to admit that they spend an unhealthy and inappropriate amount of time being worried about my looks, what the shite is up with that?!

So hey, I am obsessed with my looks and I do and buy some ridiculous things to try and improve them. It is not right. I should know better. I need to step back from the make up bag and get some perspective.

Dear self: read a book, watch a film, remember what it's all about.