Rainy Day
I think the universe is trying to communicate with me... As in, it wants me to put more effort into my appearance on a day-to-day basis. Somehow, whenever it's a rainy day so I choose to wear rainboots and hoodies, or on a day of an exam or big paper so I am exhausted, I always run into someone I know. I would prefer to impress this person rather than make them run away screaming.
I like to think I value myself beyond my outward appearance, so I can get away with red rubber rainboots, a pink raincoat and black leggings. In truth I dress the way I do and leave my hair unstyled (but brushed) because I am lazy. I am flat-out lazy. I don't have the time, nor patience to straighten my hair every day or wear heels constantly. It's not as if I wear my pajamas out of the house! I am neat and presentable, just not exactly impressive or red carpet-worthy.
I suppose I shouldn't care what I look like or what this boy thinks of me because of how I look, yet I find myself turning red at the thought of my wind-blown hair and dripping coffee cup in hand. I don't consider myself vapid or shallow, but I am self-conscious of my appearance. I believe this is mostly because of my strange need for people to like me.
Let's face it: our society puts a lot of pressure on how we look on the outside, regardless of how generous, kind or intelligent we are. My sociology professor last semester may have put it best: "You don't listen to the speech of an unattractive politician or watch a flat-chested weather girl, do you? No, you flip to the next channel where the candidate has straight teeth and perfectly quaffed hair, and the weather girl tap dances."
When did we decide that our outward expression determines our self-worth? A long time ago, is the answer. Yet my damp hair and nervous expression didn't stop this boy from opening the door for me or buying my coffee. So maybe the universe is putting this boy in front of me when I look like a tornado styled my hair today because if he likes me even when I look like this, he actually likes me - the one behind the tangled hair and coffee stains.
I like to think I value myself beyond my outward appearance, so I can get away with red rubber rainboots, a pink raincoat and black leggings. In truth I dress the way I do and leave my hair unstyled (but brushed) because I am lazy. I am flat-out lazy. I don't have the time, nor patience to straighten my hair every day or wear heels constantly. It's not as if I wear my pajamas out of the house! I am neat and presentable, just not exactly impressive or red carpet-worthy.
I suppose I shouldn't care what I look like or what this boy thinks of me because of how I look, yet I find myself turning red at the thought of my wind-blown hair and dripping coffee cup in hand. I don't consider myself vapid or shallow, but I am self-conscious of my appearance. I believe this is mostly because of my strange need for people to like me.
Let's face it: our society puts a lot of pressure on how we look on the outside, regardless of how generous, kind or intelligent we are. My sociology professor last semester may have put it best: "You don't listen to the speech of an unattractive politician or watch a flat-chested weather girl, do you? No, you flip to the next channel where the candidate has straight teeth and perfectly quaffed hair, and the weather girl tap dances."
When did we decide that our outward expression determines our self-worth? A long time ago, is the answer. Yet my damp hair and nervous expression didn't stop this boy from opening the door for me or buying my coffee. So maybe the universe is putting this boy in front of me when I look like a tornado styled my hair today because if he likes me even when I look like this, he actually likes me - the one behind the tangled hair and coffee stains.
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