Ding.
The chime of the door opening is the metaphorical key to the ignition of my anxieties. I quickly make my way past the flashy jewelry, and the table filled with pink frilly things, up to the cashier counter.
"Almost done, babe?" I ask my beautiful girlfriend, as she studies the computer screen. "It's after five o'clock already."
She always stays later than she's supposed to. I guess I can't be too upset, as it shows her magnificent dedication and diligence.
"Almost," she replies.
Alright, I guess I have no choice but to look around until she's ready.
The boutique is on the smaller side, so I don't really have much to do but circle the place eight times before she's done. I walk by the entertainment table— the most tolerable of them all, in my opinion. 'Mr. and Mrs.' mugs, a book of "10 things husbands should be doing," and a pink puppy keychain...NEXT. I can't even swing by the dresses and present myself as interested. Now I feel judging eyes on me. So out of place with my hair tied up, boot-cut jeans, striped button-down, and Timberland-esque footwear.
"Babe, I'll meet you outside, okay?"
Ding. Out I go.
From what you've already gathered, the aforementioned place is somewhere I don't necessarily frequent. I'll also assume you've picked up on the fact that my wardrobe/style is not that of a very feminine nature. Now, by no means did I attempt to turn you off with my completely pessimistic introduction, but only to assist you to see what I experience when I'm in a situation such as this one. 'Uncomfortable' is one of a few choice words to describe the rush of intensity that courses through my body as I enter an environment where I typically see myself as a black sheep among all white.
Growing up, I was always the black sheep of the family. I guess during the time before I became an adolescent, it didn't matter much. I was who I was, and that is all there was to it, but being raised in a right-winged, Catholic household, I was expected to look and act like a "normal" young girl. You can probably imagine the reaction I would get when I wanted nothing to do with dolls, and instead, desired to get rowdy and muddy, playing ball with the boys. I'm sure you could also metaphorically imagine my parents developing stroke-like symptoms when I told my family I wanted to be a boy, and for them to start calling me 'Kevin,' at about 10 years of age. But to me, my childhood was normal. Once I made the transition to the ripe ol' age of about 15 though, I began to wonder why when I was amongst all of the other girls at school, I felt left out...different. I didn't feel as pretty, or as popular as them, and the fact that I knew most of what they said behind my back did not help. Before I knew it, I was dying my hair, caking on makeup, and shopping for a new wardrobe. But why is the question. Why did I succumb to this façade, when I was fine with the appearance I once presented? Besides the obvious answer that is "peer pressure," I believe low self-esteem played a part as well. It is also something that I have been struggling with until this very day.
Telling a child that what they feel is wrong, and irrelevant, has true potential to jeopardize the perspective of their self-worth, especially coming from the most influential people in their lives. Although experiences such as those have once hindered my growth, I wouldn't change my life for anything. In my 24+ years, I've had so many experiences, positive and negative, that have helped mold me into the adult I have become. Today, as I look at myself in the mirror, I like who I am, and what I look like (for the most part). Occasionally, when I take a walk down the street, passing pedestrians, or when I open the door to that nerve-racking boutique, I hear the voices of my past. "Why don't you dress more like a girl," they say. It gets me down, but I've learned not to let those voices hold me back from achieving the happiness with myself that I desire so much.
No one said that loving yourself was easy, but I promise that with a positive outlook, anyone can have the power to see themselves as beautiful too. I know that I'm beautiful inside and out...I truly believe that. For me, it has and still certainly is a work in progress, but I have so much to be thankful for. I thank God for the people in my life who appreciate me for my character, and not the clothes on my back; especially my amazingly wonderful girlfriend. She has done so much for me in the time that we've known one another, and I could never go without mentioning that. Check out this amazing (YouTube video) she had created for me, and make sure to subscribe to our channel if you enjoy it!
All in all, I look forward to one day taking that walk, passing people with my head held high, and picking up the love of my life from work, with a smile on my face as I enter the store. If you struggle with loving any part of you who are, I'll tell you this here: you are beautiful, and the people in your life who truly matter, will recognize that. Gratitude and humility is key to be on your way to a happier you.
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"Make sure you don't start seeing yourself through the eyes of those who don't value you. Know your worth even if they don't."
-Thelma Davis
