12/08/2024
Me in 1992 around when I started finding out who I am.
Of course it didn’t end there. I just see that as maybe the beginning. Maybe? I am thinking maybe sooner but I really never saw it!
Here is a something I am working on for another project. A piece of it was uncovered recently so I added it in. Part 2 coming later.
I couldn’t attach the full “article as it’s still a work in progress and not posted anywhere.
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The Beauty I Couldn’t See: A Reflection on Insecurity and the Unexpected Compliment
By Terri Lynn Visovatti
Growing up, I was often lost in the background, a little mouse in a world that seemed filled with vibrant personalities and confident smiles. I was shy, deeply insecure, and convinced that I wasn’t pretty. The mirror was a constant reminder of what I believed I lacked. I saw flaws where others saw beauty, and I didn’t think I was enough. I tried to blend in, hoping that if I didn’t draw attention to myself, no one would notice how different I felt from everyone else. The hold my insecurity had on me caused me to not really show up in some areas of my life. So I wound’t draw attention to myself. I intentionally tried to blend in.
Makeup was something I minimally touched. I watched as other girls skillfully applied their eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss; transforming their faces with every stroke. When I looked at myself, I couldn’t figure out where to begin. It seemed pointless to try, so I stuck to the basics, if anything at all. I believed that no amount of makeup could change how I saw myself—or how I thought others saw me.
My hair was another source of frustration. It never seemed to cooperate, no matter how hard I tried to style it. I would spend hours trying to tame it, but it always seemed to have a mind of its own. Heck even tame is a reach, I should simply say, get it to do something…anything. While others had perfect curls or sleek, straight locks; long, thick, and beautiful hair. I felt like mine was a constant stringy mess. This only added to the feeling that I didn’t fit in, that I was somehow less than those around me.
I wasn’t athletic enough, and started too late to excel in any sports. I would never catch up. I couldn’t sing, or dance. I had zero talent. So, I tried to blend in. I kept to the background, hoping that by not drawing attention to myself, I could avoid the pain of feeling like I didn’t belong.
Because of all this, I felt out of place. The ugly duckling. I was surrounded by people who seemed to have it all together, who seemed to effortlessly fit into the world, while I struggled to find my place. I felt like I wasn’t enough—not pretty enough, not confident enough, just not enough. Athletes. Theater. Musical Talent. So smart. Then there was me. Maybe if I applied myself, or even was pushed to I could have done something. The problem though was would it push me even further down?
I had friends. I had lots of friends. I had a supportive family. I still do!!! Maybe if I had talked to someone about all of this. I just didn’t know to; insecure about that too! I was, and am, a supportive person. I was always outgoing. I just couldn’t go that far for myself, at least I thought.
I know a person is a lot more than what they look like, but so many instances in life, you have to admit, it matters. People are always judging how someone “looks” for their age. Or gosh “what were they thinking” with that outfit, or tattoo, haircut, or something else. How about the weight judgement? Over dressed, underdressed. The right clothes. The trends. I know now also that if people do give you a chance to get to know you that ones appearance is more than their face, hair, and body. I thought I understood that when I was younger, but I know I didn’t. I thought I was the exception. I was afraid. ��Clothing and accessories, is where I would experiment. I remember having to buy the same sweaters everyone had, but I would then accessorize with something different. Or the same jeans (well mine were probably boys Levi’s that my Mom further altered as I was too thin to fit into normal jeans many were wearing) and I would borrow a sweater from my sister or something vintage (I discovered vintage shopping early on!) Now clothing is often my super hero cape, my shield maybe, or even my mask. I can hide in something, or I can shine in it! Sometimes the same piece. It can open me up to attention, and help me inspire my confidence in having something to talk about if I have nothing else. A great vintage piece is like my comfort zone. Unique. I now blend by not blending; I fit in by being different. Because of all this, I felt like I didn’t fit in. I watched from the sidelines, longing to be part of the crowd, but always feeling like I was on the outside looking in. I believed I wasn’t enough—not pretty enough, not outgoing enough, just not enough. So, I did what I thought was the next best thing: I tried to blend in. I kept my head down, avoided drawing attention to myself, and hoped that I could just get through the day without being noticed.
To be continued in comments…
