Can a geek have sex appeal???

It so happened I was baking this weekend and as I was digging through gran’s recipe books I found one of the recipes I needed in a book she made for me as a present, filled with handwritten recipes and photos of me and my sister in the kitchen. Although I’ve always loved the book and treasured it much like a diamond, I used to never like the photos because I was wearing giant glasses and looking as I did back in the day – shy and frightened. It has been a part of my history I wanted to forget – the years of wondering why no one liked me and what was wrong with me. The years of blaming myself, of hurt, rejection, loneliness and sadness. Through all this I was surrounded by love from my grandparents and dad, but I never felt it as much as I could have, because I was too busy contemplating why I didn’t have many friends, what people would think if I opened my mouth and why I couldn’t be like the other kids. It was a nightmarish hell of a state of mind to be in, lightened up by books, doing creative things and the hope that one day things would be different.

Whenever I used to look at the photos though, what I saw was someone I was angry with for not having figured it out earlier. For not having been happy, open and living life to the full. It was photographic evidence that I, at some point in my life, didn’t have a clue and to topple it off felt miserable because of it. Years of pain were all summed up in a photo of me in giant glasses. Maybe more than anything, I was ashamed that I still hadn’t figured it all out. That I still had days when I wasn’t “all that.”

I had a close look at those photos when baking my cakes this weekend. I looked at a kid, whom if I met her today I would have taken under my wings, protected and loved. I looked at a lonely, lost and confused child. I looked at someone I would have pitied and wanted to love so that she could open up and show her sparkling beauty, so well hidden inside. I would have loved her, yet the little girl thought herself unlovable. Looking at the photos, for the first time, rather than feeling repulsed, I felt love. I still feel sadness looking back, mainly because of the scars I still carry with me, those that haven’t quite healed yet, but I also feel…peace. Understanding. It’s therapeutic, because by learning to love that little girl, I’m learning to love myself. I am that girl, although a lot has changed since.

I’m learning to appreciate myself and love myself. Rather than trying to be what I think others will want, I’m learning to love myself for who I am and showing people that person. I’m removing my many layers of fear and allowing people to get a glimpse of me. That’s not a perfect person. That’s not an A star celebrity. It’s just a tiny little animal filled with emotions, love, joy and laughter. An animal I feel for, just as I feel for a cat, dog, or another human being because they have emotions.

I guess I’m not trying to be so strong anymore. I’ve got scars. I’ve got good days and bad days. I’m ugly and beautiful and happy and sad. I do right, I do wrong. It’s alright. You are welcome to see all that. You can probably feel for her, because you can now see her. She isn’t a perfect doll – she has emotions and it’s those emotions you will feel and therefore feel for her. I feel for her, because I know her. I know what she’s been through and how that feels.

In the past if I looked at a bleeding animal, or a frightened little puppy, I wanted to rescue it. When I was bleeding, or frightened, I wanted to kick my own ass into shape and become perfect. Become beautiful and good at everything. A perfect doll, or robot – always in the right mood, always in shape.

In reality beauty isn’t a perfect life, or a perfect face. Beauty is real. It’s seeing a real person’s journey through life. It’s feeling them in your heart. Above and beyond beauty is seeing a happy, joyous person filled with love….I wasn’t that as a kid. I wasn’t that because I thought about how to be perfect for others and how I was failing. If I hadn’t thought of that, but rather just lived, I would have been a happy, joyous person filled with love. Funny how being perfect is being nothing.

Love yourself. You deserve it.

…that girl became…

…that girl…but I kinda believe in…

…that girl…