*
"Apparently I hate men. Why do I love men? Deleted from everything because I had a night out with another friend. Petty? Relationship status? Good fucks? Oral sex?"
"I am a plain girl. Everyone else seems more beautiful. Me not so much."
"Womb raider."
These are a few of the notes that I have written on my phone. I do this so I can refer back to them at a later point. They are my ideas for possible blogs. My thoughts as I go through the day. The times where I am drunk and need to write what's in my head, down and quickly. They don't make a lot of sense most of the time.
I am currently sat on my bed, looking like shit whilst wearing my reindeer onesie. I look ridiculous. I look appalling. I look dead. Everyday I look in that stupid mirror which glares at me from the opposite side of the room. Taunting me. Bastard thing. It knows that every time I look up in to it I'll be scruffy. Make up smudged, hair all over the place, beer belly growing nicely. It's cruel. Everyday it makes me realise how old I look now. Everyday it mocks me. Everyday it reminds me that I am merely a plain girl.
When I say plain girl I merely mean how little effort I put in. Some people get away with it perfectly. There are some people on this Earth who look phenomenal without any effort involved. I am not one of them. Then, there are some people who religiously apply their make up, making themselves look like this airbrushed piece of perfection. I am not one of those either. Some days I think to myself 'right today is the day you check your make up is okay more often. You sort your hair out and you don't get embarrassed by putting more make up on so your face doesn't look like something out of a horror film.' Those thoughts tend to only last briefly. I go out with all good intentions and then realise I can't be bothered. I get embarrassed doing it. I am no expert on make up application and feel like an absolute tool when other people are watching me do it. They all have the right brushes, the right colours, the tricks on how to put eyeliner on. I just grab and go. Hair is another thing I haven't mastered. I can be curling my hair first thing in the morning, feeling good. I look fairly good. Outside I go, in to the elements that seem hellbent on ruining anything I have achieved and boom. I now look like a member of the Jackson 5. Good times.
I think I am plain because I am not astoundingly beautiful nor am I, or I hope, repulsively ugly. I am a middle of the road kind of girl and in some ways it's a pain. I suppose it depends on your idea of beauty. However, I am not beautiful. Not to say I don't particularly like who I am. I just can't be bothered to put false eyelashes on, check my face every five minutes and attend to any form of beauty regime.
My friends are like me. Apart from they're good looking. They don't seem to fuss about the way they look, they're just naturally beautiful. Myself and one of my good friends are blessed with what appears to be afro hair of sorts. In any type of water our hair explodes in to this fabulous bush-dragged-through-hedge-Jackson-esque 'do' that leaves us looking stunning. For this, I thought, it would be a good idea to try to remedy it. To make light of our sad situation. With it being Christmas, I bought her a gift. She now is the proud owner of an afro comb.
I have been told I'm good looking by many people. That's not me being big headed in any sense, that is by exes, friends, potential menfolk and my mother. I appreciate their sentiment but it doesn't really wash with me. I know, when all is said and done, that I am not aesthetically beautiful. I am plain. I am me. I am okay with that.
There is nothing wrong with being a plain girl. We are lucky in some respects. We won't get badgered by every bloke in a nightclub but we have that secret element that is only ever shown to people we may like. We have those mischievous eyes, that coy smile, the confident walk. We are able to allure whoever we wish to with just one striking feature. That is the joy of being a plain girl. I imagine all the beautiful girls have to put in a lot of effort to remain beautiful. They must look beautiful all the time through fear of someone seeing them looking not so beautiful. We plain girls have the luck of being okay with being okay.
Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Maybe I am over analysing something that needn't be thought about. Maybe me and my confusing notes should hush for a little while.
Hannah xox
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