pretty is as pretty does

The disco ball at the Grundle Club (title for Whitney)

Despite how it may appear, the photo above was taken during a very awesome night. All the action was happening off screen, but for some reason I was cognizant of this shot capturing something. I just didn't realize at the time, it was my feelings. 

My best friend's bachelorette party was that night and it was every bit the regression to university levels of excess and hilarity one would hope for (except no one woke up with a friend-of-a-friend's underwear in their houseplant--not naming any names). But i felt off.

What started my downward spiral was something embarrassingly shallow. I used to have very long, very natural looking hair. It was traditionally pretty. I guess I was traditionally pretty. But as i've gotten older, that hasn't seemed as important as embracing the self I feel most comfortable as. That self is someone who should have a platinum bob. It suits me. But I'll admit, maybe I was prettier with long hair. It's not something I think about a ton. Just from time to time when I allow leftover adolescent insecurities to take over. Or when someone calls me Lady Gaga. Which I have to say, happens a lot more than I'd like. 

Don't get me wrong, Lady Gaga is cool. But if there's one thing she's not, it's pretty. So imagine if the one person you're constantly compared to isn't at all attractive. It's hard to totally write off. On this particular night out in Baltimore, I might as well have been Gaga for all the attention I got. I started to think that maybe I'd been kidding myself. Maybe I wasn't so confident. Maybe this isn't who I am. Worst of all, I was disappointed in myself for being bothered by what some preppies thought of me. 

Because really, I don't care about having the approval of people I don't know. But that night, I took the comments to heart. I felt deflated, like I was just some weird girl trying to fit in with these women who are so special and so gorgeous. I suddenly feared that they, too, would see that something had changed. That I was somehow no longer worthy of them.

Of course it passed, as meaningless self-doubt typically does. I just can't believe that I'm 27 and still having moments of such incredible insecurity. Will I ever grow out of it? One can only hope. In the meantime, thank goodness I have friends who are nothing but wonderful, even if I'm not so wonderful to myself sometimes.