I hate my freckles.
I also love my freckles.
Weird, isn’t it, that I love them with all of my heart yet also hate them with a raging fury?
Because if you asked me “Do you like your freckles?” I would definitely say, “Yeah, sure I do.” But if you said they were ugly and maybe thought of some rude nickname for them, I would a) smile sweetly and ignore you; b) stick my tongue out at you like the immature person I am; c) tell you to “fudge off” (with a different word); or d) say something like “And who asked your opinion?” I wouldn’t cry or even look really upset, because I’ve heard all about how ugly they make me, but I would still feel like wilting inside. It would still hurt.
I mean, it all started when I was in my Super Nail-Biting Loser Phase (I’ve lost the super and the nail-biting, but not the “phase”) in middle school. Ah, middle school. I remember it well, particularly the way my classmates would constantly make fun of the way I spoke/wrote/looked. Particularly my freckles. They LOVED my freckles. They would bring it up, ask me WHY I had them, ask if I liked eating too much unhealthy/spicy food, whatever whatever. They would also call me 麻子脸, which is basically a rude term for “freckle-face” (if that wasn’t rude enough). So maybe you can understand why I hated myself and my freckles then, hated them enough to seriously consider getting surgery or something to remove them. And guzzling bottles of water because I thought staying hydrated would remove the toxins that resulted in freckles.
It’s completely ridiculous though, because it’s not my fault I have freckles. They grew. I can’t change them, and I know it’s pointless to feel embarrassed about something you can’t change. And if someone ridicules you for some unchangeable thing, well, they can just go to hell because no one asked their opinion.
But somehow, for some stupid, stupid reason, I feel really hurt when people comment on my appearance. It’s stupid, because I (well, mostly) like myself! I like my freckles! But then I see those perfect pictures of models, with the perfect, paper-smooth, freckle-less faces, and I think “Why don’t I have a perfect face like theirs?” And it’s stupid, because those models don’t have perfect skin, their photos are all airbrushed and manipulated. Yet I still feel inadequate for having these irregular little spots on my cheeks.
I do like them sometimes. I love them sometimes. I think, Having freckles makes me who I am. I wouldn’t be me without my freckles. But then again, sometimes I think, Why can’t I have a pretty smooth spotless face? I would look so much better without freckles! I’m not pretty with them!
So I don’t know. Sometimes I love them–freckles are cute! Other times I hate them–nooo freckles are sooo ugly!!! I just don’t know.
That’s all I wanted to talk about today. I’m pressed for time, so, just have a good weekend, and stay chilllll, as always.