i feel weird and ugly

on being the ugly duckling in a family of swans

i don’t think i fit in neatly with what this generation calls “pretty”, “handsome” or “beautiful”, because while we might actually choose to reflect deeply on what we think beauty is, we find that we can never truly define it. how a person is to be seen, described and perceived all depends on what you think about them, not know…but think. what you might see as beautiful, or think is beautiful, might be ugly to another and while you can choose to argue about it, none of you had it correct, unless you’re willing to see it from the other’s eyes.

there’s a saying that goes; beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. i don’t fully agree but it does make a lot of sense. how i see myself is on me to determine and not another. how someone sees themselves should be on them to decide, not another. but here’s the thing about that now, we can’t accept other people’s definition of beauty because either we find that it contrasts with our definition of it or that we’re just plain envious.

“i think this dress would really look good on me.”

“no, it wouldn’t. your assets don’t show that much, try this on instead.”

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i don’t think we can truly define beauty. what is beauty anyway? a feeling? an outlook? beauty shouldn’t have a definition, if in fact it is truly beautiful. it should just exist. if i don’t think i am beautiful, i’ll easily let another’s opinion about my flaw, define me. even though i may choose not to, i will reflect on what that truly means. am i beautiful because of this or without?

to be beautiful is to exist without outward opinion influencing that beauty.

my friend texted me saying she went out for a swim with her family and how she felt weird and ugly in her swimsuit as people kept staring at her body. this is something we’ve both been on; the issue of feeling weird in our own skin, having people stop to stare at you as you move on about your day.

“oh, her hair is unkept.”

“oh, she shouldn’t have worn that crop top, she’s got a lot of fat down there.”

“he’s too skinny for a guy.”

she told me she felt weird and that while her mother called out to her for a photo, she rejected it because she doesn’t like taking pictures and i could relate with her. she went on saying her mother’s facial expression could tell she wasn’t happy with her daughter’s decision of not being seen in photographs because she could barely remember when last she was in one.

i saw myself in her and boy, do i also hate people taking pictures of me. i’ve taken photos of myself, cringed and deleted them because i never truly saw myself as handsome or masculine enough to make a girl blush just seeing me. i hated the way i looked and desperately wished to change myself because i was unhappy in my own skin and that’s the worst kind of self-pity one could ever be in.

i never saw myself capable of attracting anyone or receiving compliments because while people might just stare and look, you really just want someone to say “you look great today” when you intentionally decide to wear that cute outfit for lecture. but no one says that, and you regret putting in the effort all to just sweat away the cologne you had on.

what i always wanted was for someone to truly see me, say i looked good that they couldn’t get their eyes off me, or just stare at me and smile because when i smile, they smile too. for someone to magically compliment me or even chase after me. but that doesn’t happen. not in real life, ever. this isn’t a posh, 90’s nyc romance aesthetic movie or love series. nigeria isn’t that.

nigeria encourages body shaming to the point people are dragged for being themselves, delete their social media, go incognito, and then pass on that hate to another person because they suddenly became the very persons who once dragged them and think it’s ‘healing’ when they do same to another. that’s how cyber-bully happens. that’s how trolling begins, because if you want someone to feel less of themselves, all you have to do is define them.

tell them, “your nose is too big”, tell them “you’re shapeless”, define them in a way that makes them want to question their existence and that’s it—you’ve destroyed them in just two to four words. not everyone’s beauty is strong, some are fragile, and it only takes one word to wreck that image in their head. that’s what ugliness is. it begins from within. and while that may sound cliché, which it is, it is true. maybe by 50%. the other 50% is just outwardness.

being ugly isn’t just a declaration someone woke up at 3 a.m. to give themselves. it’s staring longer at your photos, group photos, zooming on you, cringing at your face until it feels ugly and you delete it. and while others may say it’s good, you’re just not convinced that it is, so you avoid taking photos of yourself and with others. if you were to post, you cover your face with mosaic because you aren’t fully confident with how you see yourself.

tbh, I always felt and saw myself as that d.u.f.f in every friendship, and while that might not be the exact case, it certainly feels that way once in a while. it's feeling uncomfortable being around your peers because suddenly they all got hot overnight. its refusing to wear that shirt one more time because someone told you it made you look ‘too skinny’. i never accepted myself and being aesthetic-less with friends who had aesthetic made me even shrink to size of my very normal male shirts (they're not THAT small).

what being ugly feels like

it’s staring at your body in the mirror longer than usual. no words. no thoughts. just silence and a judging heart. and you know the worse part? you’re not plus sized, you’re not too slim, you’re in-between yet you feel that you are. you look in the mirror, slim, dainty and barely any food through you, that when even a slice of cake or two slices of bread would immediately make you think you’re “eating too much and need exercise.”

this message in this picture was my literal existence in one sentence

while being ugly might have it’s peace, it’s really frustrating too, because all you’re thinking of is how you’re gonna get that money to go for a chemical peel, do skin care to a point where your skin doesn’t feel like you anymore, and your face is finally like the whites and unrecognizable, and your body, now potent and beautiful.

you feel without that beauty, men wouldn’t look your way, hold the door for you or stop you to ask for your line id. and as a man, women won’t be attracted to you and would rather date shrek than look your way. all these aren’t because you’re not human too, but because you’re not beautiful or handsome. you just want to feel pretty, and good looking, even if it means flipping a coin in a well and crying your eyes out under the pouring, thunderous rain, hoping it works out. maybe in movies like, ‘i feel pretty’ but not in real life.

beauty too is change.

i feel ugly in that outfit my mom bought for me. i feel ugly in that photo i took of me yesterday and today. i feel ugly when i look at me in the mirror. i feel ugly posting a picture of me because i feel insecure of my face and features, coming off as too skinny and lean (all thanks to yoga, lol). i feel ugly in that group photo. i feel ugly being around other pretty and good looking adults. i feel ugly when i take my shirt off in front of people because i’m too insecure of my upper body and this affects being in a relationship because i can’t take off the thoughts of my spouse having to think before she could come to terms that this really is…me.

i feel ugly because i can’t drink protein shakes and lift weights because being in a gym is its own kind of body shaming. and i feel ugly when people take photos of me that it has ruined and made me fail to capture important moments of my life, like my high school graduation ceremony, my college induction, my birthday. i never open my camera and shun any camera pointing at me, afraid that my voice and my face would make them delete it immediately after watching it.

and while I might never fully come to terms with people telling me, “you're fine," “you're not ugly" i can't deny having the thoughts each time I stare at my oily skin in the mirror (yes, i occasionally have acne cause of my skin type).

i was with a friend when she began filming herself, and asked that i too, came into her video. i did, we laughed, talked and while she played it afterwards, i could see her lift a brow. she cringed and i too, cringed at the sound of my voice being replayed and my face that when i left, i saw she took down the video from her status and deleted it. she wasn’t aware i’d seen her do it, but it did hurt, seeing someone close to you, judge your looks. so, fuck. maybe i am that ugly.

i worked and exercised a lot, i forget to look back and see the changes i’d made on my body. i did yoga every day for three-four weeks without seizing, twice each day, losing 8.2kg that when i finally hit my goal, i stood on top of the weight scale and was shocked when i saw the two digits i was and still at. and after doing all that work on my body, because i was too insecure, i found that the insecurity didn’t leave, heck, it became worse, because my mother still gives me that worried look over dinner, asking if i eat well in school, seeing as my shorts easily slide off my hips.

i had ulcer once because i wanted to lose weight and while, looking back at it now, accepting if you were to call to me stupid, i think i was really in a bad place with my outward look. but what baffled me was that this “outward look” nobody would get to see it. like, how i can’t even raise my shirt or stay without a shirt on as my roommate parades the room, half naked, i won’t be able to show my body, so why do all that tedious work?

the pressure as a man to look good, handsome, smell nice and still on top of that, lift weights would and can never seem like something i can do, because i really just want to exist being ugly, without feeling like i have to kill to look that good, or at least that version or idea of it. we’re so obsessed with looking good that we’d feel worthless without acquiring some invisible points at looking good and seeking validation on the internet afterwards.

my feeling ugly comes/came from a place of personal and societal judgement. maybe i don’t take care of myself like others do or mainly because i’m too broke to, but one of this seems to be the reason. if i had a chance, i might wanna change me. not the kind that suggests surgery, just exercising, a lot of skin care and eating healthily more. but before all that, i finally accepted that i was in fact ugly on most days, and while i’m still hoping on making money to treat me well, i just want to relax and bask in it.

i had my bathe and while i was applying my lotion, i stopped to stare at my skinny body (which really is as a result of college stress & yoga), i noticed pimples and rashes on my face, maybe one or two boils and for the first time (which, after happening once or twice) i became comfortable with it. i didn’t care to apply my anti-inflammatory, doctor prescribed cream. i just put on my clothes and went out for class, not minding how i’d look, because one layer of vaseline wouldn’t hide it. so..? my best option was to let the ugliness exist without trying to define it.

ugliness should just be, without feeling like you're wrong for existing

so, if this is you, dealing with ugliness, you’re not alone. you want what others have sometimes and it causes you to hate yourself for it at times, but i can tell you, if wanted that body as bad as you said, you’ll work towards getting it. not letting the cause for beauty run you over but giving yourself grace and wanting happiness, even if it’s an ounce of it. but when you look in the mirror, you better love what you see, because there ain’t no one else like you and that’s all it takes to know, to put an end to this body shaming and wallowing in self-pity at 3 a.m. in the morning.

i love you the way you are. and if this piece resonated with you, share it to someone who you know needed to hear it, and maybe, if you’re feeling confident, share a picture of you.

i don’t know, because i can’t fully say what the reason was, but last week a group of girls were recording me on their phones, and it so happened the outfit i had on was really good so, i was genuinely wondering if i became handsome all of a sudden or that they just were recording me for some other reason but it felt great to think (because i really don’t know why, 💀) it might’ve had something to do with me being a little bit good looking now.

xo, kingsley.

if this essay resonated with you, please, buy me a coffee.

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