Monday, May 2, 2016

Why you really shouldn't talk about someone's look (when I'm around)

Everyday we talk about appearances, we look in the mirror and start nitpicking on our "flaws", we come across people and commenting on their clothes, we stare at their make-up, and we talk about it. Of course, I do that too, and I do not really know where to draw the line between right or wrong in this particular issue. However, this one I think is very wrong, since it has hurt me very much to listen to some of my friends or the people around me who are--sorry, I do not mean to scrutinize a certain group of people, but--mostly guys talk about someone being "ugly" or "pretty". Of course, since I was around that means they weren't talking about me, but I was still heartbroken every time this happens.

I know what you are thinking, I'm full of bullshit. I'm either acting self-righteous or I'm just hoping that people won't do this to me. To some extent, you are very right. I do, however, think that my anxiety, overthinking, paranoia, and self-defense mechanism, is valid.

My reason start with this,
Every time I hear someone talking about another person being "ugly" or "pretty", talking about their face, their hair, their body, or their make-up, what comes into my mind is that this person must have his or her judgement of everyone, including of me.

So as you may have guessed, I am very insecure about myself. I know exactly that I'm not the "ideal" model of beauty people portray. People are not attracted to me, and I think I have a special case. I am not the "unattractive" type that fades among people, unforgettable, and invisible because I don't stand out among the beautiful, in fact, I am the type of person who people look at twice or more to make sure that I actually look like "this".

I hate getting my picture taken, because I always hate how I look. There are no angles that can make me look more beautiful, no lighting that highlights my best features because I don't have any. I fear, very much, the trend that people like to crop and edit someone's "funny" face and make a meme out of it. All my pictures have "funny" face in them, I am born, breathing, walking, living with that "funny" face. So that fear of yours of getting a bad picture that could go viral, is a fear I carry with me every single second.

And I am not completely baseless. Since I was very young, people stare at me--they don't look, they stare. Believe or don't believe me, but there has been days where adults whisper loudly their questions about my face, my old new friends laughing at the size of my lips, my family talking about the size of my belly and hips, children at the mall looking scared of me and run, and that took a piece of my confidence every time that it's a surprise that I still have enough to go by. I can picture their eyes grow bigger and there's a surprised look on their face when they see me. That's when my brain start spinning, and I start to conspire on what they could be thinking. I carry that thought throughout my day, rethink it before I sleep, and I do it every single fucking day of my life, and it piles up, it enters a bottle, fill it in, enter another one, again and again until I'm nothing but bottles. Up until this very moment, every time someone laughs after walking past me, I couldn't help but think that they are laughing at my look.

At worse days, I couldn't stand the mirror because I hate what I see in it. At better days, I realize that I am lucky that I can change my look someday. I am lucky that getting off the hell that sticks on my face is not easy but is possible. But until then, it does not seem like so. Getting out of this unpleasant feeling seems very close to impossible to me. I have lived with this for more than 18 years and that in fact, has been, forever, thus it felt, forever.

Do not ever try to tell me, or anyone, that I "should be grateful" or that "whatever I have is a gift from God" because that would either make me feel that God is very mean or that God hates me, or that would make me feel guilty, as if I haven't felt shitty enough. I feel ugly and I wanna let out my feeling, saying that means you want me to keep it in, this won't help anything.

So what would help? Changing society's distorted image of beauty.

Which is again, complete impossible load of bullshit.

But then, this is what they sometimes tell me. "Don't listen", "they don't matter", they also tell me "to be strong" as if they expect me to fight this when I am the one who has been shot down. They talk to me as if I am the one at fault for succumbing to the pressure. Oh guys I wish it's that simple, and mostly I wish those words of encouragement actually help because they don't. Thank you because not only that I am ugly, I am also weak. I am making it impossible for you, aren't I? I am making seem like you couldn't help me, which I wish isn't true.

So maybe it's not really anyone's fault that we happen to talk a lot about looks. I am not trying to pin guilt on people. I truly think that everything this is is a reflection of what the (patriarchal) society has fed us with. Instead, I want whoever reads this to dwell inside the mind of people like me, victims of judgments. I want you to know that to me, it's not about you doing something wrong, to me, the bigger problem is people's heart bleeding from hearing those judgments. Talking maybe okay to you, normal to us, but it's not-so-okay for those who listen. My advice? If you can't say something nice, shut the fuck up. You can think for yourself on how to behave in front of people like me, you can figure out yourself what to say to insecure people like me, for now, let's start on what not to do.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

What am I

The idea of "being yourself" may not be bullshit, in fact it could be a great idyllic goal but one that could also be a utopia. The idea that says you can, is a complete load of crap.

Why?

Because you barely know who yourself are. You know your name, and your story, but that's not enough. Those are a part of "you" but not who or what you are.

Who you think you are today, is what you think yourself are, mostly things people think you are. What you destine to be, is that of what people induce for you to be. What you want to be and how you treat yourself for being or not being is a result of what is expected of you.

So what now?

Now, nothing. Because you will know who you are. Because you can try but shouldn't rebel from what you are now, because how would you know that what you are now is not who you are supposed to be? You and I, and all of us, are unreal, perpetually non-existent, and joy is with those who are clueless.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

mind made up

A letter to something--yes, thing, not someone--I miss very much

Dear you,
today I made up a bit of my mind about you,
so I figured that I do miss you,
but I also think that I shouldn't come back to you,
not never but no time soon, and certainly not now,

I don't hate you, I'm just happy without you,
and although I clench my thirst sipping the sweetness of your bitterness
and I taste the thrill of life riding the ups and downs with you,
I am a coward,
a coward too scared of the unforeseen future with you,
a coward too scared to fall too deep into you,
and a coward who already did,

a coward who can't see herself deserving you,
a coward too scared of losing you,
not just a coward,
but someone who dearly misses you.


Signing off,

Rachel Diercie,
restlessly random since 1997.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Since it's still February

Okay guys, maybe it's the february effect, but if this lasts until after the end of this month, then it's just me getting into this whole litterature thing too deep (I've been reading some mumbo jumbo classic literature books and trying to get inspired to write--and I've sort of been writing stuff), if that's also not the case, then somebody needs to kill me because I cannot live being this crazy hopeless romantic.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables


This might be a commonly known quote, but I think the essences of this one beautiful sentence go beyond that. So, I must admit that I'm the type of person who believes in the freedom of people to interpret literature. Reason being, no one knows what a poet, or writer, was thinking when they're constructing an idea. Which means “To love another person is to see the face of God.” might even be just some random words Victor Hugo spat out to make the words of his book sound beautiful, although, that's obviously not what I believe.

I think it is one of the best picturizations of the idea of love. "One of" because I still think that there are words out there that are just as true, that new truer words will always be spoken. This one is not the absolute best, does not deserve any award, and not even one that can be said original--I guess--but it's different in a good way and it's own way.

Skip all of the above if you want to get to the point of this post.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”

Not everyone believes in God, and even if you do, there's always little doubts and little questions in you. I think for most of us, it's hard to truly and completely believe in God. Sometimes you want prove, be it in the appearance of God Himself, a prayer that miraculously come true, a picture, a testimony, or anything. Sometimes when you listen to your doubts you start to wonder if you're being an idiot for still believing. Those who choose to believe suffer, they have to struggle, fight all of the doubts that seem to have their grounds.

So for people, believer or non-believer, to see the face of God, is a revelation to say the least. Revelation might not even be the word, it has to feel more dramatic than that, like a moment of not only silence but a complete pause that lasted short but you can feel every bits of moments in it, or like a sudden ending to a book that you didn't know would reach the end so soon, and before you know it, it's another book, already with its cover, already in another chapter, or maybe like being born, you just popped in there, and you know a lot, get a lot, there's no background, no explanation.

Love, is too, something that not all of us believe. But Victor Hugo told me through Les Misérables that if I'm lucky enough to fall in love, it would feel like this. To see the face of God is a joy from the validation of your believe, the joy of getting the answer of one of the biggest questions life has ever posed. You're unsure of whether or not this moment will come, but it does come. That you're not always aware of your ability to love, that you don't know when love will come, until it came. That moment, you don't need to make room for doubts for all the questions ever existed have been answered. That it just happens. That you're inexplicably happy. That happy is no longer a word to describe the state you're in. That you're in a whole new chapter and you've reached a whole new level in life that you never thought even existed.

In brief--although this isn't a very good conclusion due to its clarity--, to love another person, is to believe.