I Grew Up Without Insecurities

I don’t know why or how, but I grew up without insecurities and the need to “fit in.” This is by no means my way of trying to toot my own horn, I’m just being honest. And trust me, it’s not like I have anything to boast about when I was younger either. I definitely wasn’t the “popular” kid. I wasn’t the prettiest, wasn’t the most athletic, and I wasn’t the smartest. Heck, I wore my hair asymmetrically to show my unique “Asian” style.

I was in a comic club. It took me almost 15 minutes to run the mile. I had bad acne. I had braces. And looking back, I’ve had some pretty unappealing haircuts. But despite it all, I honestly was just in my own happy, little world as the geeky girl who loved drawing, writing, and reading manga.

It’s little different now.

Since my 20th birthday, I started seeing flaws in me that honestly have never even crossed my mind before.

Bad skin. Enlarged pores. Dark circles. Stretch marks. My jaw. My profile. My weight. My figure. My nose. Gosh, my typical “hindi matangos” Filipino nose.

And no, it’s not like these things bother me so much that I would call them insecurities (they’re actually not as bad as I just made it sound). Although I’m definitely not boasting about them, I’m not insecure about them. Fortunately, because of how I grew up, to this day I believe I’m beautiful (WOW NAKS NAMAN). Haha 😂 I’m serious though. I mean, I’m not Hollywood pretty, but I believe I’m beautiful in my own way.

In hindsight, I wonder how different it would’ve been if I DID care about what people thought of me. If I rated myself against society’s standards. If I changed how I acted depending on who I was with.

I’m almost certain my self-love and confidence roots from my relationship with the people I love (and God of course!). Not because they tell me they love me or that I’m beautiful (which of course is also nice to hear) but because I didn’t have to pretend I was someone else growing up. I can be myself around them and the fact that they stay means they love me, for me. 

I don’t have an army of close, intimate friends, but those of them I can count with my fingers—I know they would fight a war for me.

And for that, I am grateful.