Rosie Rambles #2

by N A about a year ago in single

The Unwanted

Rosie Rambles #2

To be frank, I’m probably the most insecure bitch you’ll ever meet in your entire life. I avoid mirrors whenever I’m out because I don’t want to ruin my day by looking at myself, but I’m extremely conscious about how I look at all times so I kind of have to look in a mirror. I constantly switch between thinking I’m too little, too big, too short, too tall, and too everything else depending on what level my self hatred is, I absolutely hate my teeth (I have a gap and both of my front teeth are chipped because God loves having a good laugh), and I sometimes stuff my face in a pillow and cry at the thought of looking the way I do for the rest of my life.

Wanna know the sad part? Everything I listed is only half of my issues. I can’t tell you why I feel this way, but I can tell you what certainly doesn’t help.

The lack of attention I receive from guys.

You might be thinking to yourself, “Aww, poor baby. You don’t get attention from guys? Where do I send the donations?” And to that I say… that is a very appropriate response. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I have it rough, but I will bitch and moan because this is my blog and I shall do what I want.

After middle school ended and the Chris Incident (Refer to "RR #1") was successfully repressed, I thought high school would be my time to shine, the apex of my life. I thought I would get my first kiss, go to parties, go on dates, be at the top of my class, lose my virginity, and do everything else I’ve seen on cheesy shows and movies centered around teenagers. I seriously thought those years were going to be some good ass years, but… uh… they were just… decent.

I went to school with so many girls who were just so beautiful and bursting with personality. Three of these girls were close friends of mine, April, Mandy, and Phoebe. They had amazing looks, amazing bodies, amazing personalities, amazing everything, and their dating lives reflected that. I felt so out of place because I was nothing like them. They were always approached and if they weren’t approached, they were at least wanted. I was never wanted. I felt like the outside world was confirming what I already knew to be true: I was ugly… hideous… lock-the-fucking-doors-because-I’m-coming-into-your-neighborhood grotesque.

I had the tendency to lie to my friends about my love life.

“Oh, I just went out with a guy last week.”

“Oh, I just turned this dude down. He seemed really sweet, though.”

“Oh, I have plenty of options.”

Lies... lies... lies. I sat on a throne of LIES.

I tried everything to get noticed. I piled on the makeup, I pushed the limits of the dress code, I tried to come off as "flirty" and "loose" even though I was the furthest thing from it, and there were even times where I considered asking guys out, flipping the script, but Mandy told me that would make me look desperate. (Which is complete bullshit. Ladies, shoot your shot.) Basically, my entire time was devoted to bellyaching over being single and trying not to be single.

I’m just now realizing, as a freshman in college who has yet to even get her first kiss, that I shouldn’t live my life that way. My self worth shouldn’t be linked to how much attention I get from guys. I need to focus on me and do things that will enrich my life, and if a guy wants to be a part of that process, then that’s completely fine, but it’s not needed.

A relationship should be an extension of yourself, not an entire part. It’s ok to not have people drooling over you. Drool over your own damn self. I do it from time to time. Just last week, I bought a dress from the mall and posed in front of a mirror in it for, like, 20 minutes. Wanna know why? Because I felt good. You have no idea how rare it is for me to feel good.

It still hurts a little that I don’t seem to be "desired," that I've never had at least one guy want to take me out, and as I've said before, I'm riddled with insecurities, but I’m a work in progress. Someday, I’ll get to the point where posing in front of the mirror is a regular fucking thing, and I’ll do it whether I’m single or not.

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Read next: 'Chocolate Kisses'
N A


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