Is it weird for me to still love how I look even when I’m depressed? I steal a glance or two of myself in the mirror and think “well at least I’m still beautiful.” That’s the power of self-love. Also the power of my boyfriend’s love. I can’t give myself all the credit, he has a part to play in my self-acceptance. We’ve been together since 2014 and he managed to make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He tells me almost everyday that I am beautiful and he loves me. But with depression, you would think that I would hate my looks while I’m depressed.
I didn’t always love the way I looked of course. Like every human being. I hated my dark skin and “nappy” hair. I hated how big my nose looked on my small face. I hated that my eyes were dark brown. I wanted them to be hazel or green. I hated (still kind of don’t like) how thin (underweight) I am. I’ve always enjoyed being short though. I hate cooking while being short. It turns into a workout. I wasn’t like most girls growing up. I wasn’t obsessed with using makeup to “enhance” my beauty. I did cover up my “nappy” hair using weaves and chemicals. But that was the only thing I did to change my appearance so I can at least like something about myself.
I hated that I didn’t look like a “normal black girl.” I had (still have) no curves, small breasts, and a small butt. I was obsessed over this and often googled “how to grow boobs” or “how to make my butt bigger.” I was always comparing my growth to the woman and girls in my family and thought “there must be something wrong with me.” Plus I use to stuff my bra. But that was in middle school and I stopped after watching that episode of “As Told By Ginger.” I did not want to be embarrassed like that so I stopped as quickly as I started.
Like most people I grew up with people telling me I’m beautiful the way I am. Also like most people I didn’t start believing it until my sophomore or junior year of high school. I stopped wearing weaves and
learned tried to learn how to take care of my natural hair. I’m still learning but my depression makes me “lazy.” It was a slow acceptance of my own beauty but I am glad that it’s almost complete.
I love my eyes, the color, the shape. Yeah, they aren’t unique but they are mine. I no longer think my nose is too big. In fact, it’s the perfect size for my face. I am obsessed with my dark skin now. I love how it glows under the sun. I love how thin I am but I do think I should put on more weight so I can be healthier. I love my small breast. I don’t have to wear bras or worry about back pain. And I love my natural hair. I need to take care of it. It’s currently breaking off and dry because I don’t do anything to it. In order for my to accept my natural beauty, I need to take better care of my hair and weight.
probably won’t cure my depression but it might make it easier to deal with. I can not imagine going to the mirror and hating myself through and through. Not able to see the beauty in me. I am grateful that I have accepted looks thus far.