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Hollow-Holler
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2004-04-27 - 3:15 p.m.
I confronted my mother with the idea that I believe to be true, that she thinks I am ugly. I needed to know before she went to sleep, after we talked about insurance and optical bills, if she thinks that I am ugly. I run little tests, and I see how she looks at me, like she wants to rearrange my face in a pacing manner, and the way it feels like she keeps tabs on what I eat. I know that she used to think that I was pretty, I grew accustomed to her telling me that I looked nice back when I thought less of a costume, and wore things like sweaters and jeans all day long. It's possible that I read too much into her comments and quips and nervous pluckings at the back of my pants and the swooping hands that brush the hair away and examining eyes that never rest on my eyes when I am speaking to her. She said the other day when we were looking at pictures and I exclaimed: "Oh man. I looked pretty in that picture.." and she said "Well, you WERE pretty, Rachael." and I wanted her with all of my mind to say: "Rachael, you ARE pretty." It was a test, and she failed. If my own mother thinks i'm unattractive, if my own mother can't toss me a compliment that would mean fulfillment for a week or more, than who can I get it from? There is nobody who can validate this insecure vanity. I need to hear it from her, it shouldn't be that way, but it is. "Of course I think that you're pretty, Rachael. But I can't like a lot of the clothes you wear. They are not flattering. But I think that your face is pretty." "I feel like you are constantly sizing me up, and always so disappointed with what you see. Like I am wasting myself, or something." "You are too hard on me. You know that I think you are pretty. But pants like that aren't flattering on anybody! It's never cute to have half of your butt hanging out. It's just not!" "Good night, mom." And she kissed my head, knowing that I was near tears upset, but she still content to drop the topic. I talked this afternoon with Lindsey about it. She knew what I was saying, and it felt sane. She's felt it too, I love my sister with everything. She knows that she still churns for our mom's approval. To this day, she struggles with the sideways jabs, and so I think that it will be good to get away from this dependancy. I wish that I were capable of the self made type of confidence. I wish that I didn't hold such stock in compliments, but to an enormous extent, I do. I have a piece of paper, that I think that i'll never get rid of. In 10th grade speech class, we all had to write a cmoplimentary comment to every member of our class. Our teacher compiled them, and wrote out our individual praises and gave them to us in an envelope. I knew, because I had done it myself, that the compliments weren't always the truest. But I didn't, and I don't, care. The stitch being that I don't even know what to do with a compliment once it's given. I'll push it back a little bit, and not know how to eat it, but I still need it.If I felt like the same person all of the time, maybe it wouldn't be like this. Maybe I could cling to one compliment and think, 'Oh, but Abby once told me that I made other people feel very comfortable.' and let it be enough. But I feel like a different girl all of the time, and think that the way I am perceived must change along with it. This has to stop.
It's not fair to anybody.
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