“I think you will be the last one to get married in our gang”, she said in a serious tone.
“Why? What made you think so?” I asked, all bemused.
“Cos, you know, hmmm.. you are not good looking”. She said as a matter of fact.
I was not taken back. With my fragile limbs (that gave Olive Oyl a run for her money), malnourished body and a face that looked more or less like the skull on a hazard symbol, I was far from being called pretty. And the icing on the cake was that I was really short, just a few inches away from being called a midget!
Right from the time I could differentiate between pretty, average, and ugly; I knew that I fell in the last category. There were friends, relatives and neighbors who would constantly remind me of this fact, time and again, lest I forget.
“Will I be pretty and tall in the next birth, at least?” I asked my mom sobbing. This outburst was a routine every other day while I was growing up. Especially during the high school days! When all my friends were counting the number of love letters they receive each day, all I could count was the number of cosmetics I tried to become fair.
If someone gifts me a new dress, they can never get the size right because I was always too small for my age. Then the color — not every color suits me since I was dark. “Buying a dress that suits her color and size is the toughest task”, they would say with a laugh that pierced my heart.
“Your daughter didn’t get your color or looks, poor thing!” My mom gave a weak smile to this sympathetic remark. She was hearing this the millionth time.
If someone gifts me a new dress, they can never get the size right because I was always too small for my age. Then the color — not every color suits me since I was dark. “Buying a dress that suits her color and size is the toughest task”, they would say with a laugh that pierced my heart.
“Your daughter didn’t get your color or looks, poor thing!” My mom gave a weak smile to this sympathetic remark. She was hearing this the millionth time.
“Is this your own sister or cousin? You both look so different!” My brother didn’t bother to reply such comments.
“It will be tough to find a good match for you if you are going to be this thin!” I smiled carefully hiding the tears. Yes, I was always the ugly duckling who dreamt of becoming the highly cliched beautiful swan.
I can’t say everything changed once I met him. Even he didn’t seem to be interested in me in the beginning. Can’t really blame him, which teenager in his normal mind would go for a below average looking girl? Who are we fooling - Guys drool over pretty girls! Period!
But gradually love happened. I always knew it will. Call it my over confidence, but I was damn sure that I will get a guy who will love me and my silly features. And everything changed forever. “Small is cute and my girl is the cutest”, he would say. And when I looked through his eyes, I could see that it’s true.
I can’t say everything changed once I met him. Even he didn’t seem to be interested in me in the beginning. Can’t really blame him, which teenager in his normal mind would go for a below average looking girl? Who are we fooling - Guys drool over pretty girls! Period!
But gradually love happened. I always knew it will. Call it my over confidence, but I was damn sure that I will get a guy who will love me and my silly features. And everything changed forever. “Small is cute and my girl is the cutest”, he would say. And when I looked through his eyes, I could see that it’s true.
It’s been eight years since we are together and no more am I insecure about my looks. I won’t say I have become a head turner, but when I look into the mirror each time, I am reassured that there is someone who thinks that I am pretty.
When I got married without being dragged onto matrimonial websites or without breaking the heads of matchmakers, I looked at my relatives who had guffawed at me before and raised an imaginary middle finger onto their faces. Take That!
- Jane Doe
When I got married without being dragged onto matrimonial websites or without breaking the heads of matchmakers, I looked at my relatives who had guffawed at me before and raised an imaginary middle finger onto their faces. Take That!
- Jane Doe
