I have never physically met this week’s guest, I met her through her sister whom I photobombed once back in high school only to end being friends with her years later on Twitter. Zama was kind enough to agree to contribute with a piece for this week’s edition of Fluid Thoughts. A thought-provoking piece questioning the popular idea of being pretty whilst also addressing people’s opinion of your appearance and the view of one’s self. Show love to a Twitter fugitive, a photographer and an outstanding writer, Zama (@zamateeshares on Twitter)
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The definition of pretty is very subjective and can easily be disputed yet, we still find ourselves – men and women – being subjected to weird standards regarding what is “pretty”. There have been hundreds of TED Talks, YouTube videos, studies etc on the matter and now we have various definitions for what can be pretty. I, however, still have my issues with it. Mainly because I am: a victim of not being considered pretty, presently the vainest person I know, still struggling with the concept. I won’t force my opinions on anyone, that’s not what I do; I’m just here to share what I’ve experienced and what that has taught me.
Point 1: No one let me be pretty.
When I was growing up, I looked like igwinya. If you are currently picturing a round, big pastry with a face on it then you have 60% of my childhood pictures. I was made aware of my gwinya figure all the time. Forget getting a personal trainer, your aunts could do that for free the way they review your weight and eating habits. The comments obviously chipped away at my developing self-esteem but the one comment that still affects me the most was when my parent’s colleague said “awumhle kodwa umkhulu” (you’re so beautiful but you’re big). At the time I was about 9 years old, so I didn’t have the guts nor vocab to say, “What the fuck does that mean?”. I didn’t understand why she would take my beauty and then make it worthless using my weight. That interaction planted the idea that ‘being pretty means being skinny’. Not all those fashion magazines; I didn’t make my beauty standards foreign white women. All I had were other people’s mothers telling me to try dieting. To make matters worse, if I stood next to my older sister we would look like a before and after picture. Luckily, I didn’t develop a serious eating disorder. In fact, being called fat made me eat more. Later in my life I discovered that my sister, the one who was my supposed competition, didn’t feel pretty because people would call her ugly for being dark skinned. Besides them being terribly wrong, it shifted everything in my mind. Here was this person who I thought was the full package of beauty because, on top of her face, she was also thin. Only to find out that her weight didn’t protect her. It made me wonder “What the hell do they want?”. This brings us to point 2.
Point 2: The vainest in the land.
When I was in high school I was a boarder. My fellow boarders compiled a list of the most conceited people in our grade. I wasn’t number one, I was number hash. Their explanation was that I was so conceited that I was above whoever was number one. This didn’t offend me because it was, and is presently, true. I love myself. I believe that I am very beautiful (apparently this is common amongst Xhosa women and this is the only stereotype I embrace). Women, especially young teens, have this bad habit of constantly speaking negatively about their looks. I understand why, being a teenage girl is very difficult. But I had already spent my adolescence hating how I looked, I couldn’t spend another part of my life feeling like a discarded plastic bag. I made a conscious decision to just never speak negatively about my looks. This positive outlook was interpreted as vanity. Why is it that? Why is not hating yourself taken as you thinking you’re the hottest thing since sliced bread? Young girls shouldn’t have to hate themselves. Everyone deserves to feel like they’re beautiful. One day, near the end of high school, one of my close friends told me that she actually felt inspired by my “vanity”, she too started to see herself in a more positive light and that reassured me that I was doing the right thing. Then I take a sharp left with point 3.
Point 3: I’m not pretty.
This probably undoes everything I’ve just said but let me explain what I mean. Over time what I discovered is that pretty had more to do with how you were perceived outside more than how you saw yourself. I always tell people that I am beautiful (facts) because I believe it. In fact, I think all women are beautiful – men still need to earn that. I just also think that pretty is a whole other level that I am not on. Pretty women get the public affirmations, admiration and rewards. I’m not saying this in a salty manner, I want women to get all the good things that come their way. I’m just saying that people like me don’t get 500 likes on their pictures, or we don’t get someone sending us food just because we tweeted that we’re hungry. If you’ve just discovered that you’re one of those people, welcome to the club. There’s nothing that makes either group more superior than the other. I just don’t want people to think that when I say, “I’m not pretty” I’m secretly saying, “I look like Shrek”, that’s not what I’m saying. And as I mentioned above, pretty is a very subjective adjective. If you had to ask the prettiest person you know “do you think you’re pretty?” they might say no, because it’s how they feel. Maybe my crush doesn’t think I’m pretty, but the next person does. I’m not going to change my crush, but I appreciate the next person’s feelings. So, I’m not very bothered about not being pretty.
I’ve said a lot while saying very little at the same time. Essentially what I’m saying is that we (most of us) are burdened with this invisible pressure to look a certain way that people approve of. It makes no sense because those people will always find something negative to say about how you look. Then we get older and just surround ourselves with all of these negative and inaccurate perspectives on ourselves. You become the defiant one when you choose to simply embrace yourself. At the same time there’s this divide that arises because your looks can either get you things or nothing. It’s a big and disorderly mess of subjectivity that no one has managed to navigate. Every year People magazine nominates a Sexiest Man of the Year. We debate their choice every year. So, we should just focus on being attractive to ourselves.