in a world full of social impersonators, I have valued the bravery of those who can stand out legitimately without the obnoxious pressure to have to always fit in..looking back, i think maybe its why I had always admired, appreciated and taken a liking as a teenage to the punk rockers who wore their Mohawks, piercing and tattoos proudly while the rest of the world cringed, walking around in goth bliss beholding their own style of beauty..
I remember wanting so badly to pierce my nose at 16, which was a complete and utter embarrassment to the jewish mother who forbid me from every having such extreme outlandish behavior..snort snort..instead, I wore cherries in snow Revlon lipstick, that resembled a berry stain on my lips and cut off all my hair trying to punk my jewish ass out as much as I could in my express clothing and izod polos..
in my mind I was channeling Cyndi lauper being a girl who just wanted to have fun, blaring my everyday is Halloween ministry song..jeez give a kid a break..since I couldn’t go all out “punk” I instead internalized my self expression and suppressed it fading into the crowd of every other suburban jew with the permed frost and tip hair and matching frosted pink lips..its ok, I went sinead o’conner and shaved my head in Israel..so there!
I was watching botched the other night with my husband because it startles me at how many people opt to become someone else surgically..do they not see the repercussions of ending up royally fucked when their over zealous ambitions dont stand a chance..im not talking about the nose job gone wrong, or the cheep decision to go abroad for surgery and ending up with a psychopath as their surgeon laughing is ass to the bank..
im talking about the ones who embody the idea and belief of truly becoming someone else, like either a person in the media or some form of a doll without any limits even if it brings death..i wonder as an outsider looking in, fascinated by the sociology of humans, what happened to them as a child that they are deeply suppressing..there has to be some sort of traumatic event or story lodged somewhere beneath the skin that is being tortured as they destroy the outer essence of their body..
I don’t get it..i hated myself as a child, and as a teenager, and tried taking my life a few times many, with a mother who pointed out all our flaws leaving me to feel so ugly, but I would never in a million years think of ever shooting poison into my body..or remake a finger that isn’t there, or fix my droopy eyes that bother the shit of me, of take my tiny set of boobs and pamala Anderson them..or try to unage my soon to be 48 year old ness and freeze my face so I look sheen and expressionless..i just don’t get it, I mean I do just look around..
I have learned to value what I see in the mirror looking back at me, and learned to do it when I was in an emotional vile stage too..i made an oath to that reflection long ago that we are enough just the way we are, even if I don’t fit in with the way I look or the way I act..I AM DOPE AS SHIT AS IS..sometimes you have to be in grace with yourself, honoring the skin that is the largest organ of your body treating it with respect and loving it for doing its job in protecting you..
I wish I had magic dust to blow over those who cant see or find themselves in a world where every body has to look to be the same..that the social standards are frosted and glazed with bogus beliefs and shame making that little child inside suffer..do your self a favor and love thy self in way that surpasses the criticism while restoring the natural beauty inside for the outside..lost are the ones who were never allowed to love themselves as they are..peace love faith hope