The Ugly Girl

I confess,

This has become an obsession.

Not just for me,

But society as a whole.

From competing for popularity in school,

To competing with the sexual attractiveness of many.

Our peers.

Pornstars.

Strippers.

Hentai.

And now, sexbots.

This leaves me and many others wondering,

Why isn't reality good enough?

Why am I not good enough?

Why am I not pretty enough?

Will I ever be?

You see, I didn't even get what they call a glow-up.

There are good days,

And there are bad days.

I know sex sells,

But why not spend that time and energy on a loving partner,

Someone that will be there for you,

Care for you,

Do anything in their power to make you happy,

Instead of making that same person feel insecure,

And like they will never be enough?

I don't know about all the other females out there,

But I'm tired.

I'm tired of the competition and the games that we play.

Who can pay for the bigger breasts,

The fuller lips,

The bigger ass,

The better curves?

Paying your way to more money,

And more fame.

Because sex sells.

While the ones like me are left alone,

Broken by the world,

Because we don't have the money,

So we can't play the part.

We're no longer deserving,

Or worthy.

Because looks are all that matters.

I don't have the gorgeous smile,

The flawless skin,

Or the beautiful curves.

I don't have perfect assets,

Or even the pretty face.

So I'm automatically out of the competition,

And have been since the minute I was born,

Unless I want to pay copious amounts to be back in.

Scarred and full of stretch marks,

A broken smile with a million freckles,

Petite and as pale as a ghost.

Exactly the opposite of those at the top of the totem pole.

But it's okay because I already knew.

Each time I walked into a new building,

Whispers following me down the halls.

Each time I was cheated on by the father of my son.

Each time I was turned down by someone I was head over heels for.

Each time someone broke up with me hiding under a bed of lies.

The nerdy girl with glasses.

Quiet and shy.

And nowhere near popular.

It starts the minute you begin school.

Because you have to be beautiful to be popular.

But I'm tired.

Tired of being overlooked.

Tired of feeling insecure.

I just want to be beautiful.

I have natural beauty,

But I don't have what all these women pay millions to have.

And I hope one day the truth will set me free.