The first time I was aware--and ashamed--of what I looked like was when I was in Prep. It was my first time in a big school that is all-girls. Prior to studying in that school, I studied in a small co-ed kindergarten where my only dilemma was how fast I finish seatworks so I can immediately play with my classmates afterwards. Imagine not having to worry about what I looked like to suddenly being told by a teacher that I was "panget". I remember during Linggo ng Wika I would beg my mom to let me wear a pretty baro't saya because when I wore a native Ifugao costume, that same teacher told me I looked even more ugly. 

That stuck with me a lot during my first few years in that school. I had classmates who don't like being with me because my face was "ugly" and I smiled funny. Some simply told me I just looked physically annoying. I had a seatmate in 1st grade who was the prettiest girl in class and she refused to let me  check her papers when the teacher would tell us to exchange because I was--you guessed it!--panget. 

Can you imagine a girl experiencing all this? A girl between 5-8 years old suddenly being insecure of her looks because girls her age then would notice how short she fell on that department?

Me as a prep student back in St.Scho and in the midst of hurtful comments about my face from my classmates and teachers.

As I got older, I became more aware with the fact that my mom used to be a former model and had beauty queens generations before me. Old fashioned and coming from an age where aesthetic is everything, I was pointed out as "fat" when I was a preteen whose waistline was 26-27 and has a sister who is skinnier. I had some meat in me and realizing this, made me shun the uso clothes back then. I would never dare wear sleeveless tops and I just stuck to wearing cargo pants or jeans.

The thing with me during my awkward stages growing up is I learned that though I will never win the crowd over with  the way I looked, I can always impress them with my brain. I liked studying, reading, acting, and writing even at a young age. I may not have money to surgically enhance every physical aspect I wasn't proud of(and hello, I'm just a kid!), at least I can enhance my brain. Soon, people noticed that I had some substance at least, even if I had no beauty.

But at a young age, I did consider surgery. I remember thinking how much I wanted to be successful so I'll be able to afford a rhinoplasty for my clunky nose. My nose was one thing I was insecure of the most because it wasn't as elegant looking as my mom's and her side of the family. I remember seeing before and after pics of a girl my age who had rhinoplasty and she looked so different. I thought it was my only shot to accepting my face.

An awkward 13 year old who can't smile and had stupid bangs.

Another thing also was in highschool, I was not spared from the same physical judgments. I looked "big" according to some girls and "awkward" in a highschool where you had to either be elegantly svelte or adorably chubby and not in between. My jawline was so prominent that one of the names boys would tease me with was "panga". I had hair that wasn't rebonded and straight like the rest and it was thick and unruly. When I would smile, people thought my mouth was too big.

Although I normally would ignore the comments people made(such as "panga" like really I can't possibly change my jawline), some I really took personally. For the way I smiled, I thought it offended people so much that I smiled wide so I started practicing doing pouts. For my weight, I did the most dangerous thing yet; I starved myself. There was a time that I just didn't eat anything during break times and if I did, I'd survive on just a pack of crackers. I'd feel guilty if I ate chips or drank juice. I ate well at home but not as much as I used to. Because of my "diet", I lost a lot of weight. It did come with a price though: I got sick one day and I realize I had ulcer. There was also a time my bestfriend pointed out that with the way I treated my body, I could be diagnosed for an eating disorder.

I also was still ultra conscious with dressing up. I still stuck to my favorite black shirts. I remember that although I admired a lot of high fashion street style stars and fashion bloggers, I only ever followed Elin Kling for her super basic style. A part of me believes I admired her style because it is only the one I had the guts to pull off: loose shirts, dark colors, little-to-none accessories. I ditched anything that had to do with dresses and skirts. I kept arguing that I wasn't girly enough but deep inside, any piece of clothing that has to show my kneecaps and fly with the wind made me shy away from it. I just want to cover my body and not put so much attention to myself.

The outfit on the right was my signature outfit: a loose-fitting shirt and denim skinnies. The outfit on the right was the most daring I ever went as a highschooler lol

I still was proud of myself for other things, though. I was always in the honors list per quarter. I was always on recognition day every year. I joined quiz bees and never experienced leaving without anything. It was having confidence through my brains that I felt ballsy enough to accept my invitation to compete in a school pageant. I knew I could win because I felt the ones who joined were mostly airheads, anyway. But, reality did set to me that this was a BEAUTY contest. Come pageant day, everyone just looked glam while I felt like a boy in an ill-fitting gown and clown makeup. Even if I had much more brains than the ladies, it did crush me that I didn't pass the first round of looking more beautiful than the rest before I could show what I was really made of intellectually.

The feminist in me hated how I even allowed myself to join a pageant.

Acceptance with myself came in college. I went to De la Salle University which to be honest, probably might not be the best school for any girl with such insecurities. There were so many beautiful women and judgmental men. I could easily compare myself to the tisays and chinitas whom in a million years, would never compete with. I could look down on myself because most men I came across never preferred "homely" women like me.

Surprisingly, I NEVER let any of these be the reason for my insecurity.

I don't know how I suddenly had the courage nor confidence but I did. I told myself I'm in a new environment where I can be more flexible and liberal with my choices--as long as I don't flunk out of the school. I started experimenting with makeup without fear I'll be judged. I started wearing skirts in shorter hemlines. I just felt like I can pull off anything my heart desired because I felt I finally respected myself enough to really dress up for myself.

I love the rainbow--especially if it's on my lips!

But I realize despite having confidence to wear what I want and put on makeup, I still find a void in truly accepting who I really am without them by the end of the day. A part of me still felt like the high school girl who stuck only to jeans and t-shirts because I still can't remove the thought of not liking what I see in the mirror once I take off the colored makeup and nice clothes. Despite having much more openness to level up my style, I still was insecure with my face and body. I may not compare myself with other girls as I am realistic enough to know I can't change what I have biologically, I still put my own self-image down.

It's funny how I was told before by my mother that I have to wait til I get older to see what my face is really like since biology has a way of changing things in time. I was glad I never did anything drastic with my face and just let nature and genes take place. When I reached my late teens, I noticed I had high cheekbones since my face slimmed down with age and lost my my fleshy cheeks. Even the nose I hated suddenly was higher, pointier and thinner, similar to my mom's. I lost weight without even trying. My shoulders weren't as clunky and my mouth didn't feel awkward in smiling.

It's knowing I was capable of accepting, rather than condemning, what I have when I finally started to bloom and not just because of what biology had to offer me as I matured.

A monumental moment for me was when I started to get into selfies; I used to hate seeing myself in pictures! It helped me learn that this was my face, period. I can either learn how to angle it to make it look better and smile pretty or just hate myself the way I hated my face without it being pictured anyway. Another huge milestone for me is learning how to accept my face without the need of makeup. I love me some kilay or lipstick but it came to the point I was used to seeing my face with them. Once I took them off, I see a lifeless corpse. Yikes! Then I realized, it's as if I'm making cosmetics a vital part of my being when it shouldn't be. It's good to enjoy it--I love makeup, after all--but to literally breathe in it as if I'm not the same person without them is something I should work on.

The no-makeup selfie I had two years back. This was a step into accepting my face: something I loathed as a kid.

It was one thing to love my face and another thing to accept my body. I still think it limits me in a way because I don't look like those Instagram girls. What slowly made me love my body more is having that thought that it's basically the only one I've got. Pretty much a "duh" moment, but there was a moment when I have been having problems worse than usual with my battle with depression that I had to do something with how I treated my body. It turns out forcing myself to be content with only salads just made me miserable and coffee really does have a depressive effect as with anything caffeinated. Other than that, I knew I had to exercise since it is said to boost endorphins in the body.

After my first jog, I saw myself in the mirror and saw how glowing my skin was. More than the physical effects of the body, I also was more energized and motivated to do more active stuff. It felt like an accomplishment whenever I saw so much sweat on my shirt and even feel the burn on my body. Taking care of my body was the main reason why I learned to love it. Looking back to how I used to be so ashamed of my body and even made excuses not to exercise, I could only laugh because it greatly benefited me--having a toned(but honestly, it isn't really)bod was only a plus.

Glow is courtesy of jogging and yes, I wore lippie and kilay while sweating lol

I'll be honest now though. I won't lie that back then when I felt like an ugly duckling, that was all people ever saw me. I do admit that I had some suitors even back as a kid who found me pretty(daw) and had people compliment on me to which I easily dismissed. Years later, I realized that I only ever gave in to those who thought I was ugly because deep inside, I wholeheartedly agree with them. I never agree with those who thought I was beautiful because I myself can't even call myself that way. Had I been a confident little girl I could have easily shake off the snide comments of my childhood and the terrible remarks growing up. I look at my photos especially when I was a little kid and saw that to be honest, I really do not get why people could put down someone who looks so young. How could people put an innocent person through a lifetime of self-loathing and insecurity?

And that is the sad reality of it all: little girls starting to view themselves negatively and later making it affect their self-esteem until they get older. With the culture these days of media seeming to revere whoever is the most physically beautiful and making fun of those who aren't, who could blame those who get insecure with themselves? Also, imagine how young girls also learn how to judge OTHER girls? That in itself is equally appalling. It's how those young girls are raised by their parents. I wish that culture of someone's worth being measured by how they look will stop.

I still am struggling to accept myself fully but right now, I'm much more content with who I am and what I have more than I ever was in years. I learned that beauty isn't always in the eye of the beholder but in the eyes of how a person views themselves. I'll laughingly say that I think I am beautiful but not because I learned to clean myself up decently but because I finally radiate the self-acceptance it took years to achieve.

So to all my haters throughout life, I guess you succeeded in making me feel like my insecurities got the best of me. I guess you excelled in thinking you can be better than me just because I wasn't facially pleasing to your eyes. Despite all that, I didn't dwell on it and learned to mature from it. 😛😛😛