What do we behold?

I've always wanted to be beautiful. 
Everyone does.  I know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the "beholders" that I want to impress have been far more beautiful than what my eyes have seen in my own refection.  I assume that they see the same when they look at me.   This belief along with my genetic OCD has led me down a relentless path; the pursuit of personal perfection. 

It was early on when I started to feel inferior in my physical qualities to other girls my age.  In kindergarten, my friends and I role played "Star Wars" on the playground.  There was just three of us; John Mark, Jessica, and I.  For anyone who knows about the original series will realize that there is only one girl part to choose from.  I thought Jessica was beautiful, but she was my friend and I was happy with being friends with her.  I absolutely adored John Mark.  He was my Mr McDreamy, and I wanted to be as special to him as he was to me.   But just looking at him and at our mutual friend Jessica, I knew that would be unlikely.  After all, who would ever fall in love with Darth Vader?

Even after I stepped up and stepped out of my so-called "tomboy" phase, so that people would have less reason to be confused about my gender, I still knew that I would always be a mediocre woman at best.  At night or when I was alone (which was mostly at night) my OCD would kick in full force and would wreck havoc over my entire body in search of imperfections.  To put it simply, I'm a "picker".  Every bump, every spot, every rough spot, or speculated problem area on my face and body would need to be smoothed out, because it could not be allowed to be there.  I already felt ugly (or uglier that most)and blemishes of any kind would only make that worse.  I wanted to do something to change my physical appearance.  I wanted to perfect it in every way possible, and "picking" was my only way of handling that kind of hate that I had for my body.  It didn't ease my anxiety or frustration, but it gave it an outlet so that I could survive.

When I would get made fun of, or brushed aside by my peers, I always ended up thinking to myself, "What's wrong with me?"  Because, I knew the "me" inside wasn't bad.  I knew that I loved Jesus, and that nothing made me happier than to help another person.  I was smart.  I was kind.  I had good manners.  And I could be funny, if people would just give a chance to smile.   If beauty was on the inside, then I should have been all that my Mom had told me I was and more, but it wasn't my Mom's attention that I was longing for.

I dated a lot as a teen, but was never in an ongoing exclusive relationship.  I was able to get the attention of several guys. I liked that.  It made me feel good about myself.  But that good feeling was always short lived, when I realized that the reason they liked me was because no other self respecting girl would give them a second glance.  Then I would remember the guys I did like, how untouchable they seemed to me.  The "us" would always be just a dream inside my head.  

 My biggest crush started in junior high.  Garret was good looking and everyone could see that.  He had the charm and personality to accompany his good looks.  But what really made him stand out to me was his knowledge of and pursuit after God.  His love for my lord was what made my heart jump when he would look my way.  For the whole 7 years that we were around each other, I never had the courage to show him how I felt.  In fact, when he would strike up a conversation with me, I would act as if his presence around me meant about as much as deciding what's socks to wear that day.  I would do anything not to look foolish or to be publicly embarrassed.  I would like to say that Garrett and I were friends, but because of my feelings about myself, I kept my distance from him. 

Always my dates would end up trying to pressure me into some kind of sexual action with them, and I enjoyed the attention, but the feeling of attraction was never mutual.   By the end of my H.S. years I had concluded, that I dated unattractive guys (both inside and out) because I was unattractive and that's all I could get.  That's all that I deserved.  I should learn to be content to live within my own physical limitations.  Fairness or my own feelings about the matter are irrelevant to the situation.  That's just life.

The college years began to prove me wrong.



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second half coming soon