Question Number 11: Painful Beauty

Today, I had an appointment to pierce my cartilage.

I did it because I love quirks; I love having qualities-however seemingly insignificant-that become part of who I am.  Also, I simply love the way it looks.

Yes, I will admit it was painful.  And for the next week or so, I will not be able to sleep with my pillow against my left ear.  And every time I push my hair behind my ear, it stings for a moment, reminding me of the new, tender hole in through my cartilage.

Is it worth it?  I think so.  I love it.  After all, beauty is often painful.  But the lingering pain forced me to ask myself a question:

Why do we inflict pain on ourselves to achieve 'beauty'?

I will be the first to admit that getting my eyebrows waxed may be one of the most miserable experiences imaginable- and yet I, along with millions of other women, have an appointment to do just that every other month.

Walking in heels could be considered torture for your feet- and yet for special occasions I shove my feet into the most uncomforatble shoes imaginable and walk with my head held high and my feet throbbing, tripping every other time I take a step. 

As women, many of us pluck, pull, remove, improve, and alter endless aspects of our appearances to achieve that ever-desired point: beauty.

Sometimes, I wonder what 'beauty' would be if we all simply crawled out of bed in the mornings and walked out the door.

Question Number 10: Truly Knowing Someone

“Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're really strangers.” -Mary Tyler Moore

An elderly couple plods carefully around the streets of a bustling city, linking arms and smiling at each other every once and a while.  They have been married for 71 years.  It seems as though they have said everything they will ever need to say to each other, and so they walk silently.  But the silence isn't uncomfortable, it's filled with unspoken and implied words that they have already heard. 

Do these people know absolutely everything about each other?  

The simple answer would be yes-they have spent almost their entire lives together, shared their thoughts, their memories, and themselves.  However, is the realistic answer no? 

Is it possible to know everything about another person?

Even the people you are incredibly close to, the ones you can confide in about everything and know they can do the same-They must have some secrets, even if they aren't purposely kept a secret, right?  And then there are the secrets they do keep on purpose- after all, we all need a part of us that belongs to only us.

Each of us has our own inner thoughts and desires, ones that we might never share with any other human being.  Those secret thoughts that we keep covertly hidden beneath our exterior smile are part of who we are.  And if no one ever sees those unreachable thoughts, does anyone really know us?

Does the common saying "he/she knows me more than I know myself" have any truth to it?  Or is that an unreachable impossiblity?

Question Number 9: Defining Ourselves

“Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.” ― Lao Tzu

The truth of this quote rings louder than I can comprehend.  So why is it so hard to live out in every day life?

I know I am not the only one out there who tries on an outfit for some special occassion and must first send a picture of it to a friend with the caption, "Does this look okay?" before I can actually wear it.  But if I like the outfit, if I think it looks okay, why do I need someone else's approval?

Have you ever noticed that a single sincere compliment suddenly makes your day seem that much better?  And yet in contrast, a snide or condescending remark from someone else forces all that self-confidence to fly out the window.  Of course, this is something I am constantly working on.  How many times have I heard advice from parents and peers, "It doesnt matter what other people think."  And I agree-I try every day to be my own person, define who I am by what I desire, not what others do. 

And yet, when someone says,

"You are beautiful"

 I believe them.  And suddenly I am soaring-I am beautiful.

But then, when someone says,

"I don't like you"

I am heartbroken, and I wonder dejectedley if anyone does.

Why do we define ourselves by how others see us?

I write an essay for Language Arts class that I have poured my heart and soul into, one that I spent hours perfecting and feel as if a part of me lies within the words.  And yet, I must wait for the "A" written on the top of the page in red pen before I can truly feel as if it was a success.

Hearing people say great things about me makes me smile uncontrollably, while rumors or critiscm hurt more than I could ever describe. 

However, with each passing day, I am beginning to feel more and more comfortable in my own skin.  I am starting to completely belive that it truly doesn't matter what other people think, because it doesn't. 

I will define myself by how I see myself.
I will receive compliments with a smile and a sincere "Thank you", but I will not let them shape my entire day.
I will not allow criticism to tear down any of my self confidence.
I will be me.

And everyone else should do the same.

Question Number 8: High Expectations

Four seemingly harmless words are constantly falling out of people's mouths: "Give him a chance."

While they are seemingly harmless, I despise hearing them.  I want to scream to them and the rest of the world, "Why?! Why should I have to?"

My best friend counters their advice with words of her own, ones that she repeats to me when she knows I need to hear them.  She tells me, "You should never have to settle."  And I shoudn't, right? 

Right?

It's almost comical to think that somewhere, a beautiful girl sits in her room dreaming of a beautiful boy whom she loves with all her heart.  And somewhere, that very beautiful boy is dreaming about someone else-someone else that isn't her.  And in another room, there sits another boy who dreams of the beautiful girl-the same beautiful girl who dreams of the beautiful boy.

And the cycle continues.  I suppose the real question is, which one should 'give it a chance', essentially settling for what they do not truly want?  Should anyone have to settle?  Or is settling part of finding true love?

People tell me that my problem is that I have extremely high expectations.  I would have to agree.  I know who I like and I refuse to settle for anything else.  But I'm beginning to realize that maybe, just maybe, settling is essential in the ways of love.  Isn't it a fact that loving someone means loving their flaws as well?

When it comes to love, is having high exectations benificial or detrimental? 

Somewhere, there is the boy that I dream of.  But he dreams of someone else.
And somewhere else, there is another boy I know is dreaming of me.  Should I settle?  Should I unwillingly follow the advice that people have been pounding into me since boys first became a part of my life? 

I guess I'll never know.

Question Number 7: We used to be friends

Hallways. High school. 100's of people.

You smile at those that you know and ignore those that you don't.  And what about those that you used to know, but don't know now?

I remember when I was a freshman, so wrapped up in the beginnings of high school and the unknown of whatever might lay ahead. A senior offered to drive me home from school one day, and  on that solitary car ride, we talked about life. We talked about school, we talked about boys, we talked about our futures, and we talked about friends.  She said to me knowingly, "The friends that you have your freshman year will drastically change.  I haven't even spoken to my freshman best friend in 3 years."

I looked at this girl, this 18-year-old girl who had lived only a few years more than I had but had experienced what felt like a life-time more, and I nodded agreeingly.  But inside, I was calling her a liar.  Because I knew that my best friends that I had at that moment, the ones I relied on for everything and went to before anyone else when I needed someone to talk to or spend time with, would always be my best friends.  I would never be this girl, who untangled herself from her freshman friends as she grew older.  I would never be her.

I was wrong.

As I flip through the scrap book I made the summer after freshman year, the one I spent hours sorting through my digital camera and 1000's of memories to create, I can count at least 10 faces of smiling people who I have not had a decent conversation with since the bell rang on the final day of freshman year.  And as much as it pains me to say it, the senior with the knowing glint in her eyes who drove me home from school one day was completely right.  Friends change.  And it really is heart-breaking. 

Yesterday at scool, I walked by a sweeter-than-sugar girl in the hallways who I spent hours on end laughing with last year.  We didn't even smile at each other as we walked by.  So much has changed in one year that it is as if we do not even recognize one another.  It is as if we were never friends.  Were we?

What does it take for a friend to become a stranger?

Some of those friends strangers I miss more than anything.  Some of them I don't, silently wondering how we were ever friends in the first place.  Either way, there was a time when I could have gone to them for anything, told them anything, asked them anything.  And now, I can't even smile at them in the hallways without feeling strange and out of place.  Was it me who changed, or was it them?  Was it time that tore us apart, or was it us? 

I once read a quote that stuck with me forever: "Strangers are just friends waiting to happen."

But what if certain friends are just strangers waiting to happen?

Question Number 6: Valentine's Day

I'll try.
I'll try to ignore the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, the heart-shaped cookies, the heart-shaped cards, and the teddy bears holding hearts.  I'll try to remember it's just another day.  I'll try.

Why is it that being alone feels so much worse on Valentine's Day?

Question Number 5: Fashion repeats itself

I will be the first to admit that I do not know very much know absolutely nothing about fashion.

On a typical day, I just throw on whatever looks okay and go with it.  My style is extremely casual-jeans, uggs, and a cute shirt.  So I will be the last person to blog about fashion on a regular basis.  However, today is different.

I bought a new shirt at Nordstroms while shopping with a friend.  I fell in love with it instantly, it was bright and unique- flashes of orange and blue and yellow and an understated tribal design.  I wore it home, and was excited to show my mother.  However, as soon as I walked in the door, she claimed the shirt was, and I quote, "ugly as sin".

This was shocking to say the least, considering the fact that we usually have a similar taste in fashion.  When I dejectedly asked her why, she said it was because it reminded her of the 70's-a fashion disaster in her mind that should never be repeated.

So I got to thinking-

When something goes out of style, should it stay out of style?

It's a common fact that fashions repeat themselves- the oversized shirts and legwarmers of the 80's have reappeared and modernized themselves today.  Saddle shoes from the 50's have found their way back to the feet of teenagers in the halls of my school. And apparently, the bright colored disasters from the 70's have come back to haunt the teens this decade.

However, I know for a fact that my mother herself wore shirts similar to the one she called "ugly as sin" when she was a kid in the 70's.  Then, it was beautiful.  Now, it's so ugly she can't bear to look at it?  Of course, there are numerous articles of clothing stuffed in the back of my closet that I cringe to admit I ever wore.  Yet in 20 years, I might be digging that god-awful vest from 7th grade out of my drawer to wear again. 

Fashion repeats itself...is this for the better or for the worse?