I don’t know why it is that people choose to continuously spew falsehoods about my appearance. For a while I thought I was just deluded and seeing myself with a twisted view…but I’ve recently been assured that I am not. This might get misconstrued as me being vain or superficial, but it’s comprised of things that have really been gnawing at my nerves, and I felt this was the place to vent safely. An open letter to all you obviously blind assholes out there:
I am not pale. For Deity’s sake! I’ve been patronizing tanning salons since last May. I go every day. I’m as dark as Britney Spears with a sunburn, and you still call me pale? The best part is when YOU, a Nicole Kidman wannabe with skin as white as the driven snow, has the audacity to mock me for being paler than you. And you’re SERIOUS. Apparently girls who have been sunkissed lightly have beautiful, gorgeous, deep tans, while I (who has been mistaken for someone of Mexican descent) is practically albino. Mistaken for Mexican. And I’m blonde . Which brings me to my next point…
I do not have brown or dark brown hair. Yes, I know I was born with beautiful chocolate locks. But some time ago, I felt like a change and lightened it to a golden medium blonde. So blonde that when I wear black, it glows white. I know that a year is a long time for it to register in your miniscule brains that my hair colour has changed. But it would help if you would PLEASE not describe me as “the brunette”. You don’t describe our friend Maria ( who was born brunette, but is now raven-haired) as a brunette. You call her a redhead, and the difference between my hair and brown is even more drastic than hers is. You are a FUCKTARD if you can’t tell the difference, and one who deserves to drown in a steaming, boiling lake of peroxide for doing this, which you know annoys me and is WRONG.
I am not fat. I know that a 5’1 girl who weighs 105 lbs is extraterrestrial as far as you’re concerned, but it does not give you the excuse to call me fat. My measurements are 34-23-34. I wear a size small shirt, size 3 pants, and size 3 dress. However, all our other friends (who outweigh me by 20 lbs easily) are the epitome of slender and thin. Fuck you.
I do not have brown eyes. What is the obsession with me and the color brown? My eyes are GREEN. Note the sparkling, forest color they emit when you look into them. However, I am sure you’re seeing brown as a reflection of your fecal, shitwit self. May the next person who calls me a fat, pale, brown-eyed brunette be poked in the eye for eternity with a liquid eyeliner brush, be forced to down bottles of bleach and Clairol Born Blonde, and be locked in a Tanning Booth 'O Hell with syphilitic rats gnawing on their sun poisoned skin.
I don’t quite think I understand what’s going on, here. Are you hanging out with people who don’t look at you and who make a habit of insulting your appearance? I can’t imagine calling any of my friends fat, or somehow forgetting their hair color, or being blind to their skin tone. Ever.
These people are a good chunk of my friends, all of whom I’ve known for at least two years. I don’t quite understand it either. I have a very, very dark-skinned friend, so I suppose I’ll always be considered fair to him, but with everyone else I’m stumped as to how they can appear to be paying so little attention. FTR, my friends aren’t the ones calling me fat. Those are casual observers, all of whom have seemed to outweigh me significantly.
Actually, one of my friends has mentioned that she thinks I’m overweight. Said friend is my height, not muscular, and outweighs me by 60 lbs. :rolleyes:
What I don’t get is why they call your friend “the redhead” when she was born with brown hair and changed it to black.
Your physical description sounds like a shorter version of my girlfriend. I’m sure you look fine. Stop hanging out with those jerks and find people that either a) appreciate you for who you are and don’t care how you look, b) like how you look, or at least c) don’t want to tell you about their opinions about how you look all the time.
These obviously aren’t your friends if they have “concerns” about your appearance. If they were my friends, I’d tell them to fuck off and mind their own business.
Vixen, it just occurred to me as I hit “submit reply” that your friends are describing moi! So next time one of them says one of these things that bugs you, just say, “I’m sorry. You’ve confused me with Zoe again.” And if they say, “Zoe who?” Just glare at them intensely and say, “Zoe Chloe Phithian-Thayer., got that?” By the time they have recovered from the name, you can throw ice water on them.
I never understood why they called her raven-haired either. I’m pretty sure it has to do with the fact that she has subtle red highlights in her hair. I just added it because it furthered my point of them being crazy. Thanks for the advice and support though, everyone! I’ll be spending a lot more time with the friends that don’t say things about the way I look. When I’m with them, I at least don’t feel like I’m back in high school. And the strange thing is, the people that say these things also call me attractive and pretty…?
Also, malkavia , I thought some people would misinterpret my post as a way to get noticed, but that really wasn’t my intent. In fact, I almost didn’t post it because of that. I decided to add my measurements as an afterthought, because some people might think, “Well, she is only 5’1 and 105 lbs., but maybe people see her as heavy because she has thick hips/middle/large bust.”
First of all, tell your idiot “friends” that the term raven-haired comes from the fact that ravens are black, not red. That should shut them up for a couple of seconds–before asking what a raven is.
They say you’re attractive and pretty because you probably are. They say you’re fat and pale, because they’re jealous. You say that you feel like you’re back in high school, which is funny, because when you described the way your friends treat you, I assumed you guys were in high school. Wow. What a bunch of vapid, insecure people. Get far, far away from these people and find some more mature friends.
Let me skip all the comments by your friends and ask you a question on a different subject: why do you feel it necessary to visit a tanning salon every single day for 7 months?
Well, we’re first-year college students. Which, actually, probably really doesn’t change things much at all.
Ender , well, I may have been exaggerating a bit. I frequent tanning salons a little less than I claimed, but still enough for anyone to see, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m not exactly a porcelain doll.
If you’re all first-year college students and you’ve known most of them for at least two years, then I’m guessing you knew them in high school, right? That H.S. mentality is definitely spilling over into college.
When I was a freshman in college, there were about 5 people who were from my H.S., one was my best friend. In the space of about two months, we grew apart–far apart. She was still stuck in the H.S. mentality, while I was exploring and learning new things and discovering new people I never would have met before in my podunk little town. While my friend and I grew apart, I realized that she wasn’t willing to grow up (not that she was immature, just sheltered) and I was.
Start finding people who share your interests. My best friends in college were people I met at a showing of “Rocky Horror”. They were all weird like me and they never made me feel like less of a person.
Perfect comeback: “How sad that you are so insecure about your own appearance that you feel you must make me feel just as bad in order to make yourself feel attractive.”
Then walk away and never speak to those people again. There are much better people out there to hang out with.
(5"1’ and 105 is considered fat? :eek: I must be obese then!)
