I absolutely DESPISE when people say, “don’t let it get to ya, champ!” after someone else tells you something hurtful or offensive. Trust me, sir, if I had a choice in the matter, I would not “let it get to me.” But there’s this cute little thing called emotions, and when people are insensitive, it makes me hypersensitive.
I have noticed recently that it is mostly when a select few males give their oh-so-entitled and completely unwarranted opinions that I get the most upset.
“I liked your hair better blonde.”
“Are you gonna eat that whole thing? You’ll get fat!”
“You should start running, or go to the gym!”
“You’re skin is pasty.”
Not to generalize, but I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I verbalized my verdict on a man’s appearance without him asking for my opinion.
But for some odd reason, many men I’ve encountered in my life seem to feel that their opinion is always welcome because I am always in pursuit of their approval.
As a girl in this world, I have plenty of societal pressure for acceptance without added remarks on a personal level, thank you. I already know that I’ll never be beautiful until I look like Kate Hudson or J-Lo (which is literally impossible unless you ironed and stretched me out like Play-Doh, removed each of my zillion upon zillions of freckles, gave me a spray tan and cheek bones, breast implants, hair extensions, and lipo.)
But aside from being a girl, I am also a human. A flawed one. I’m short. I have zero muscle definition. My skin is comparable to an albino’s. Seven times out of ten, my hair is a frizzy mess. I don’t have an airbrushed complexion, or eyes as big as the moon.
Y’know what I do have, though? A brain. And a personality.
So how about instead of pointing out and re-pointing out all of my visual shortcomings why don’t you try commenting on my personality?
Instead of, “you look good in that blouse,” why don’t you try, “you are so funny, you crack me up!”
I, for one, would MUCH rather be complimented on my personality, thoughts, accomplishments, and creative humor than my hair, legs, or outfit choice.
To be frank, I don’t care if you like what you see. Because I like it.
In the words of my idol, Tina Fey, “do your thing, and don’t care if they like it.”
This is my new motto, folks.