I can admittedly say, that for most of my life I was an ugly duckling. Most people’s awkward stage lasts for a few years in their late tweens to early teens. Sadly, mine lasted from the age of 7 to about 22. I know that there are people out there reading this saying, “Aw, that’s not true I’m sure you were beautiful” or “Oh no that’s silly”.
Cut the generic shit, that’s what I say to people whenever I don’t want to tell them that their kid isn’t the cutest kid in the world, and actually looks like a turtle. It is what it is. I was an ugly kid. Part of that is probably self perception, but there is only one person who knows you your entire life, and that’s you. I was never comfortable in my own body and always awkwardly taller than EVERYONE in my grade.
When I was a kid, I never audibly said “I want to do hair when I grow up.” Actually, I wanted to be an English teacher. However, I guess that you could say it was apparent that I would do something in the beauty industry. All my Barbies and dolls had haircuts and “makeup” smeared all over their faces. As soon as I learned what makeup was, I wanted to wear it. I used glitter, Vaseline, and other concoctions to make my own “special” (and probably toxic) beauty products. What can I say? I was a handful. I played outside and rode bikes like other kids. At the same time, I went through my notorious “Church of God” phase, in which I refused to wear pants for a period of time.
I ramble on with all that to say, I was like Dolly Parton, I just wanted to be pretty. Now, of course I didn’t grow up poor or in the backwoods, but I still like to relate to the Blonde Haired Bouffant-wearing Beauty. By the time I was in high school I was just as awkward as my childhood, but now add silver eyeshadow and platinum blonde hair…. Yea…. Sadly all that happened. Either way, high school is where I learned what cosmetology was. I learned that there was more than just standing behind a chair in a little beauty shop that hadn’t been
updated since the mid 70’s. I learned that the beauty industry was kind of a make-your-own-fate kind of industry. I had no clue at the ripe age of 15 what my destiny was, or even if my mom was going to let me live past senior year, but I did know- this is the place that I fit.
So, I did the cosmetology thing in high school, had a
failed attempt at college, and moved on to beauty school. Multiple salons later, here I am. Blogging to you at 4:00 on a Saturday, still in my pajamas, getting material ready for the class I am going to teach at MY OWN salon next weekend. At the age of 26, just 11 short years after learning what it is all about, I am a salon owner, a “beauty” teacher, a beauty blogger, stylist, spray tan artist, and makeup artist. Literally 99% of my time is spent scouring my iPad for different makeup and hair tricks on Pintrest, or reading other bloggers’ views on the best way to get bubble gum out of their hair.
I guess I can wrap this rambling rant up to say, I am happy with life. Not just life, but myself. I‘ve gained a shit ton of weight, I’m starting to get stretch marks in places that I didn’t know could stretch, I still have acne like I am a teenager, but at the end of the day I wouldn’t change a bit of it. I put my “war paint” on everyday, style my extensions, and go out to take on the world. I may not be the Swan from Swan Lake now, but I am happy with who I am. Isn’t that the most important thing? Am I not always preaching “You’re Real Not Perfect” and “Love Your Body”? (Oh, wait, I think that my salon may have had events by both of those names, giggle) What I am trying to say here, is at the end of the day when you wash your makeup off i
f you look in the mirror and feel like a corpse, hate the size of your ass, or feel like your two front teeth are too big– always remember- that girl that taught you how to put that makeup on has had those same problems. That’s why we are what we are. Humans.