For the Love of That Someone Called Me

Growing up poor and ugly and still come out of it having a healthy regard for oneself is no mean feat.
I never was and would never be a beauty, except maybe in the eyes of my father (bless his soul) who was forever be blinded by his fatherly and unconditional love.
I could still remember during those elementary years when some classmates would talk about me unpleasantly because of my looks and the tattered uniform I wore. Being poor, my parents cannot afford to buy me new uniform and so I wore my older sister's school uniform to school which had been so old that it already had patches to it.
Adding to the clothes is my own looks. I was so skinny then, and my color is that unhealthy pallor of sun dried brown due to the constant sun exposure when we play and gather stones for a fee for building concrete houses.
I was however blessed with a good head that my classmates would not really ridicule me openly for fear of not being able to copy my answer to examinations.

Hahaha... even that early I know there is justice in the world.

Anyway, as I have said I have a good head and a good head sometimes makes you more aware than you like of what's going on and what has been talked about behind your back. Needless to say, I know what they were talking about me and that had made me really insecure with my looks.
I can still remember one day during my third grade when I was looking at my arm and tried to stretch it while thinking that maybe if I became fat I would be a lot lighter to look at than my overly-burned skin. And so, there a pervent wish to become fat started.

Fattening myself was slow in coming. Lacking significantly in nutritious food, I never really put on the desired weight until I was in high school. However, during those times when I was still skinny I turned on all my attention to taking to heart seriously the wisdom that what is beauty after all if only skin deep. So, I nourish my mind for it does not cost me a single cent to do so. Books are always there for me to read. And I steer clear of people--a lot of people. Those people who wouldn't have understood my preoccupation and would only ridicule me. Also I had become the champion of the underdogs. You can't blame me for becoming heroic when all I can read in books then are accounts of good behavior and heroism over and over.

Then high school came and I started gaining weight and become fat. But, alas! Becoming fat had not really improve my looks. Tsk, tsk, tsk, looking back I can only shake my head and smile at my naivete and stupidity. Worse, during that time and even during college I couldn't even care less about how I look. I am only too happy to be holding myself in any school discussion etc., to mind about my looks. Also more and more people come to me for all kinds of problems and advise. They may not like my looks but no one can never discount my words, for always I had the penchant for sagacious punchline. Also, I wouldn't have been able to afford better clothes just to improve my looks back then, so taking seriously that thought of senseless beauty as unimportant works well for me.

But then after awhile I have come to see glimpses of that person that my father saw. But only glimpses. Until one day when a guy co-worker got really entangled into the drama of his life and sucked me into it. Being the good listener that I am and despite the few malicious people surrounding me during those childhood days back... I still believe in the goodness of people. And so this guy friend shared his soul with me holding nothing back. Basking in the pleasure of feeling needed and being able to help, I had found myself slowly growing in affection for the man. Luckily, there was no reciprocal feeling and although the feeling grows I am still at the top of my emotions then for I know every reason and circumstance that bring on such emotions. Reflecting on that I told him something to this effect "now I already know why I had been given me a kindly face, an empathetic heart and a healthy body with a good shoulders for which to place my head. I believe this is because with these people coming to me for comfort I really need a sturdy shoulders for them to cry on, a heart that feels their pain so I would understand them better, a good head to have the heart in check and a body that would not entice men."
I believe he had laughed at me then. hehehe. But I was so sure of it for most of the people who come to me are men and if I do possess a face and a body worthy to become an FHM cover then I would be warding off sexual advances more than giving comfort and helping them help themselves.

Honestly, I do feel hurt when people maliciously call me fat. But then on hindsight, being fat is what I wish for and I would not regret it. My body speaks of my character. The things I have done in order for me to live a life that I wanted claim to have been lived my way... all the way. The extra fatty upper torso is partly due to those backbreaking sacks of stones I carried starting when I was still six years old. A labor I was proud of for it brought me my first uniform in school.

I couldn't help it when most people can't get past the skin. It's their basic prerogative. As long as I know and accept who and what I am... other people's opinion does not matter. I love myself and this fat body is intrinsically a part of me.

But then on second thought... I would love seeing the looks of those who mock my fats when I'll be given the chance to become as sexy as Angel Locsin. Hahaha... here I am again having another wish. I just hope wishing at 30 is also as potent as my wish at third grade.