pretty ironic

that I’m writing this on the third day of being a lookbook.nu model but to be fair, it has nothing to do with physical appearances.

I can safely say I’m pretty happy and confident about my physical appearance (if not why the influx of lookbook photos I’ve been spamming y’all with right) and I know there’s not much I can do to alter the flaws I’ve been given together with this body; hence, I’m pretty thankful I am the way I look, so whenever anyone questions my height or weight I don’t really allow myself the capacity to be angry or sad or frustrated. I think I’m allowed that at the very least after a few years of abhorring my weight and constantly questioning why can’t I be as pretty as so and so etc.

But it’s not the outside I’m insecure about. It’s the inside. Coming to college, especially, has made me think a lot about this. It’s kind of hard not to, since I’m meeting so many new people. At many points in my life, I was convinced that everyone here hated me. My classmates, my housemates, even people I don’t know. I didn’t know if it was because I’ve had a change in personality (why didn’t this happen back in high school?) or it’s the environment or just growing up. Since forever, I’ve always been paranoid about what other people think of me, and there’s always this beckoning urge to please and make everyone around me happy even if I myself am not. Hence why I very seldom express true opinions on my own- unless it’s on the Internet then I have my Internet profile as a façade to protect myself from criticisms and disagreements.

I said this on twitter the other day, that I expect other people to invest as heavily in me as I do in them, but I realise that’s really far-fetched considering how my strong sentimentality and emotionality is not a common factor among the general teen-going-on-adult population, and thus many wouldn’t be able to comprehend. I just sound conceited at this point, but if my observations thus far are genuine, I’ve yet to met a similar person yet. As a result of this eternal fixed distance between me and whoever, there’ll always be this strong wariness and sensitivity that any motion or comment at all from the opposite party might stem from the annoyance of interacting  or even just standing within the vicinity of me. It’s terrible. I mean, I’m working on it, but it’s terrible. To put it simply, I’m terrified of being hated but am not afraid to do so, which is a very hypocritical move and I judge myself strongly because of that.

And then there’s the constant reminder that I am the perfect example of a jack of all trades but master of none. There are so many talented people that are especially great at a particular field and there’s just me dabbling in everything but never really being able to come up with a true talent that I am able to present to others, at least. All talk but no genuine material. I mean, whatever I can do, almost everyone else can do it better. It feels shit not being a reliable source to others.

Sometimes all I want to do is pack up and leave for home, where I was cocooned within safely for six months, away from the prying eyes and judgments from the cruel hearts of society.

PS. RIP Golden, my faithful canine buddy for 10 years. You will be, and are missed.

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Author: Michelle Teoh

23-year-old cynical Asian, book enthusiast and purveyor of fine sarcasm.

2 thoughts on “pretty ironic”

  1. Honey, you are lovable! Don’t think otherwise. And don’t measure talent as being the best at something. Being an all-rounder is good too. More experience. And know that I wonder of the same thing at times.

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