Lessons Unlearned: Beauty is Skin Deep and Love Lives in the Eye of the Beholder
Memories of my very early girlhood consist mainly of running around nude or playing dress-up. Those were the only two modes I can recall. As I grew older, the opinions of others and my perception of their opinions governed too much of my life. Thank goodness that is no longer the case. My Pre-K self was experiencing a precious and short-lived phase of life where no fucks were given.
I grew up in AZ so the diaper was probably hot and itchy. A 4 year old getting her dress-up on solo is a very brutish version of womankind's most prized past time. I wasn't prepping for a kiss with Prince Charming (COOTIES!!!). I also wasn't showing up any other ratchet peasant wannabe princess bitches. I hadn't experienced that sort of competitive stimulus yet (and my baby sis was still an infant, incapable of the game and emotionally unequipped for that sort of domination). All of this in mind, and understanding that I have always, by nature, been an eccentric, curious, artsy type of freakazoid. It's a safe bet I was pretending to be someone else. Most likely someone I saw on a movie or read about. I was doing it because I was enjoying it. There was no thought given to my body or how not looked or whether anyone liked looking. I just was.
Fast forward one short year and that sweet liberty I had so childishly squandered was no more. It was my first time going shopping for 'School Clothes'. Initially I was excited at the prospect. The clothes weren't the selling point, I was just ecstatic to be starting school. Not many milestones have topped that enthusiasm, but I'm a nerd. My usual cheerful optimism didn't make it with me very far past the dressing room.
I was a cute kid. I was never obese or even overweight. I was the miniature of an hourglass figure in the making (the final product making a pretty LEAN hourglass with all the right fluff in all the right spots). But kids are awkward; growth spurts, mullets(my mother's sabotage), lost teeth, Etc. I had a kindergarten-level ghetto bootie and a little fat storage in the Tum. I was actually right on the verge off growth spurt so I am calling the temporary muffin top a win.
Until the day in the fitting room, I'd never considered myself ugly. I never considered myself pretty either. I was just Andi. Adults pinched my cheeks and called me a cutie but I figured that was standard adult-child interaction.
I did as I was told and picked out some outfits that I would want to wear to school. The responsibility of that task went to my head a little. I found stuff that was probably ridiculously colorful and sparkly because:
1. I had just seen Selena
2. It was NOT just a phase
My mom became very frustrated after trying on 2 or 3 outfits because the butt was an issue. She proceeded to unload 34 years worth of self-hating delusional body image bullshit on me. Didn't even hand me the next pair of shorts. It was me and my big girl- no- my super unprepared little girl pants around my ankles soaking in all her toxicity as if it were fucking gospel.
She apologized because she, "Really thought clothes shopping could be fun for us. Well, I just want you to accept the facts Andi. You've got a fat ass just like your mother. You'll be in the stores and see cute little tops or dresses that you'd love to wear, but you won't be able to. You are not one of those fucking stick figure heroine super models. You aren't now and you never will be! You won't grow any taller than me (she's 5'4) so the legs will be too long and your ass won't fit. It just gets worse as you age. I pray you at least get some tits as a consolation. (Mom was rockin a 36 DD at that time, and I did continue the legacy. My contribution being just a tad improved of course at a 32 DD) And don't get me STARTED on losing the baby weight."
I was in tears. I couldn't understand what I had done to upset my mother so badly. In my eyes, she was the most beautiful lady in the world(She's no Cindy Crawford but she IS and WAS gorgeous, 5 lbs. if any, overweight at that time). I was sad she didn't see her beauty. I was sad she had successfully rated me somewhere in the vicinity of hagsville with herself and doomed me to remain at that level of undesirability for forever.
From then on it was something I was hyper aware of. How bad was my tummy poking out? How skinny or fat were all the other girls in my vicinity? How skinny or fat were they compared to me? It was an obsession by 4th grade.
By 6th grade I began 'dieting'. It meant I only ate granola bars and drank diet soda. I'm sure that was great nourishment during my growth spurts. I was at a normal weight. In fact, I was gorgeous. The hourglass was really starting to come about, and at this point it was very NOT awkward. Could I see that? Did I enjoy indulging in a little adolescent vanity? No and no. My moms word trumped reason and sanity at that point. At this point her meltdowns became more often, more severe, and less predictable. Apparently I was her favorite audience to show for.
By 8th grade I was just getting my cycle and put on about 10 lbs. during that big life change. My life was over. I had to do something and make it happen fast because this was just inexcusable of me. I couldn't face my friends. I stayed home as much as I could get away with. I was afraid to turn anorexic because of the ridicule I'd get from my family. So I decided to let them see me eat and sneak away to purge. Bulimia accompanied me into my early 20's.
In 9th grade I drank alcohol because my parents allowed it. I smoked pot because they forbade it. I vowed against anything harder because I still had the goal of earning my way into college via my grades. By homecoming my best friend was begging me to try this new thing with her. I was shutting her down before she could try. She promised me it's almost just like pot but you're a little more active. I told her, "I never want to do meth. It has torn holes in my family and made my life difficult". But this wasn't meth, it's newer than that. Something called 'G'. And her sister had lost 10 pounds after being on it for two weeks.
DING DING DING! Oh I tried the G-Meth in all it's white trash glory. I lost weight, and I was hooked on that shit for 5 years, the better part of my teen years. And when I got clean I was also facing a possession charge. I was offered a diversion program for a lesser charge. I accepted it in an instant. Somehow my mind was still on school and I believed I could get that going once I cleaned this up.
The only catch about that program, it averaged about $2500/month for 18 months. I was completely on my own financially and in every other way. I was barely surviving. I wanted to do more than just survive. I wanted an opportunity to pursue my goals and build a better life than I was born to. I was not going to let one of my final acts as a junkie ruin my reputation forever. I had to make it work. I did some research about the strip clubs in PHX and got myself hired on the spot at my first audition at one of the top 3 clubs. I also held myself to very strict rules concerning working sober, NEVER working outside the club or escorting, keeping a schedule, income goal, etc.
I thought I had a fool proof plan to make this hustle painless. I remained disciplined, professional, that was all great. I still hadn't faced my demons regarding my opinions on myself though. That's one of those skeleton's in the closet who won't stay put. These internal battles where you are your enemy, and you know the score; those are the fights you can't cheat. These are the ones that have potential to improve a person on a deep level and see how much will they're made of.
I didn't believe I was beautiful. I was further from believing it than ever. I got paid to be sexy, and I couldn't handle my reflection. I just considered myself the token dork girl who got lucky. Looking back I try to understand that delusion I was under. Countless events and relationships would never have occurred if my perception were valid.
If I had a Psychological Evaluation done back then, I honestly believe I could have qualified as someone with Body Dysmorphia Disorder. I still made it to work 5 days a week, every week for 4 and a half years. I didn't run in blindly. I had some little bullshit I fed myself. I consciously thought of my breasts and my bootie as some object that I rented out a 4 hour shift at a time. I relied heavily on my music to get through my stages. When I gave lap dances, I had a set of motions I would go through and repeat (nobody noticed in 4.5 years), I didn't make eye contact or look at mirrors during lap dances. The chatting part of the hustle? I was born for that, one thing I do have is the gift of gab and that got me far. Sadly, I valued my body 0% that's a shame because I could have enjoyed those years in the clubs so much more had I realized I was one of the hottest girls every time I went into a club.
It was like being an insecure school girl again, but heightened x1000. How many skinny girls? How many fat girls? How many girls with bigger boobs than mine? Bigger boobs but smaller waist?..... It was incessant. I made good money during those years, but imagine if my focus had been on the customers instead of the dancers. I guarantee you I eyeballed those females more than any of the guys at the bar. Imagine if I walked up to those guys knowing what I know now about myself. I got paid to dance but I could have been getting paid to have a good time and feel comfortable in my skin.
A lot happened after that. A combination of putting boundaries up with my family, going to counseling, learning how to eat for nourishment. Then there were some hard lessons, balanced out by some awesome happy things. Now I know without a doubt, I am smart and talented and drew a lucky hand on the DNA gamble so I look alright too ;) .
Inner peace is something that won't be taken from me unless I relinquish it and that's powerful. Right about the same time I was advancing heavily into my self-work, my life started improving in strange unexpected ways. I am the same girl I always have been inside and outside, but I love that girl now. People can feel that, whether its conscious or not. If I had known the change in people I'd be drawing to myself by giving myself love, I would have done this long ago. They like that you love yourself and want that for you. They probably have or are working to have something similar, so those friends/ lovers bring a lot of positive and joy around.
Think back to your sweet, young, happy, self and tell me, are you nurturing him/her? Or are you piling on top of the mountain of garbage the world already feeds us? BE GOOD TO THAT KID!!! And be a positive influence on the other children in your world. Let's take what we were given and leave these kids something better.
Oh, and as for my mother; she looks 15 years younger than she is and I find her adorable(as do most people who know her). She is at a different point with her self-acceptance, but she is treating herself more kindly and living more happily. I love her, and while I've been on my journey she's been on hers. That woman has brought herself back to life again. It's different than my journey and I accept that and thank God he granted me and my mother our lessons in the best ways we could understand and grow into as individuals.