Birthdays are times where you should be happy to have aged, right? Well this one for me was not. Sure I loved that everyone who even knew me blew up not only facebook, but my phone with text messages. And of course, I am still waiting for my dad's "you used to be my little baby girl and would sleep on my chest and you was soo cute and adorable" speech that I get every year exactly at 9:18 AM, yes it is my wakeup call, he would even do it when I was in high school. Yes, my phone did go off in class the one time, and yes I did get yelled at for it(but being a good kid has its perks and my phone was not confiscated). But to me, my birthday is just another year older, away from my childhood, and into the world of all seriousness and bills, and everything else that comes from being older. It's a move into a future of bosses, careers, bitchy patients who don't want to work to regain strength, and of course, living on my own with little help. It really just makes me miss those days of sledding down Metro hill with my dad, my huskies tackling me when I came home from third grade, recess, friends who only cared about who had the best looking barbie doll, who got to play Sporty Spice, when boys had cooties, and everything else that comes with a care free childhood.
Birthdays give us a chance to look back on the last year and see if we are living our lives to the fullest. They let us see if we have changed any, and because of this, I spent the first forty-six minutes of my birthday crying. If you want proof, ask Ian, he had to calm me down last night over the phone, and I was still crying after I hung up on him. You see, I do no like what I did last year. I gained thirty pounds(15 of which I have lost again[I can fit into my khaki's again!]), I kept myself secluded from everyone, I didn't to well grade wise(not as well as I would have liked), I blew threw my savings in six months(this year I did it again on stuff I actually needed though), I injured myself in the stupidest way for a third baseman, and because of that injury I have spent seven months doing nothing(well some practicing on an injured ankle, thank you Dr. Blanda), said ankle injury has had me depressed for the past few months. I hate myself in ways that a person should love themselves. The way I see myself in the mirror is deff off, as according to some of my beloved akron people, I am the most gorgeous girl they know(I think they are exaggerating), and I see myself as fat, ugly, and fat(yes that is listed twice on purpose). I guess it doesn't help that the one thing I like about myself, is the part that the person who claims I am gorgeous does not. I think I have nice legs, he thinks they are too hulkish(well only one is too hulkish now).
When I was at home, I found two books which I had to bring back with me from my shelves at home(okay, I have three bookshelves filled, while my sister has half of one, so finding a meaningful book is not that easy). One is 'Thoughts to Share with a Wonderful Daughter' and its a hallmark book. That one contains letters and poems which my remind me of my mom. I can see her thinking some of the things in there, and it makes me feel better when I need her and she is not around. I also found "The Girls Guide To Loving Yourself", which I really need to start reading again as my last paragraph proves. It has one passage which I love about barbie, "If barbie was a real girl she would reach for a giant ice cream sunday and fall over due to her tiny bodies inability to hold up her gigantic breasts", and though I have not read it in a while, I can still recite that exact quote. There was a time where I knew how to love me for who I am, but something happened and I just don't anymore.I think it happened sometime during high school, and after that I have had the same crappy opinion of myself.
I compliment other people because I cannot compliment myself. I tell them that something on them is cute or pretty when it is, because I cannot give myself any credit. I am surrounded by the most beautiful girls I know all day, and I can't even come close to being as pretty as them in my own mind. It's just how I am now I guess. I know that deep down, everyone has something about them that they want to change, but I doubt that they all want to change every fiber of their being. I remember at one time feeling skinny and pretty but the last time I felt that was eighth grade. My mom has a picture of me from confirmation a very long time ago, and to this day I still tell her that the girl in the picture is too pretty to be me.
So here is too self loving improvement, and maybe eventually being happy with me. I am making that my goal this year, and I hope to achieve it. I love you all, and I believe you are all gorgeous. Liv always has the prettiest curls(even when her hair is short and adorable), Alison has a killer smile, and so does Abby. Sara has the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. Kate and Julia just need to leave because they both have killer bods. Elise has a gorgeous face structure, Jul is also counted into the killer bod portion, and Natalie is just plain gorgeous. Alex has the prettiest wavy hair, and Cubs is well Cubs. She has the best personality to be around, and of course you can put a paper bag on her as a dress and she would pull it off quite nicely though she looks best in vintage.
Yours Truly
Laurel Lee
* here is the passage I was talking about earlier.
"The Truth About the Plastic Princess
You grew up playing with Barbie, with her perfect pink dresses and incredibly astounding posture, her awesome golden locks, teeny tiny waistline, and perfectly perky breasts. You probably wanted to be just like her when you grew up.
Now you're old enough to know the truth. Barbie is an unachievable ideal. Thanks to the brilliance of computer technology and numerous rolls of duct tape, this Barbie-look becomes achievable to the girls on many magazine covers. Striving to be like them is a waste of your time, and starving themselves to look like them is a waste of your life. Be proud of who you are, and be the best you can possibly be. And remember this: if Barbie had a heartbeat and roamed the earth, chances are that she'd ask for a big fat ice-cream sundae with lots of whipped cream on top, right before falling over because of her tiny body's inability to hold up her enormous breasts"
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