The Ugly Duckling

While I think most personal growth and change takes places slowly, like the accumulation and ablation of sand on a beach, there are moments in life that are pivotal, formative. These moments become the legends we tell ourselves, the main story points along the time line of our personal histories. One of those points for me was when I perhaps ten or so. Young enough that I hadn't even considered the thought of dating, or even dreamed of college. I was crying one day in my room. I don't remember the circumstances, or what I was crying about. Perhaps I was crying out of jealousy for my little sister, who has always been beautiful. When she was a child, strangers would stop and call her a little angel. They couldn't resist her white blond hair or incredibly long eyelashes.

Whatever it was that upset me, my dad came to comfort me. My dad is a loving man, who always has the best of intentions, but in this case, those attentions went awry. He started telling me the story of the Ugly Duckling. He reassured me, that it didn't matter that I wasn't attractive now. He was sure that I would grow up into a beautiful woman. He said most people only had the chance to be really attractive during one stage in their life, and I was lucky that I would be older when I entered that stage. Perhaps it would happen when I was in college. That's when it really mattered after all, because that is when people date and then get married.

I was stunned. I had never known that I wasn't pretty. I knew my sister was prettIER, but I thought I was pretty too. I certainly didn't think that I was anything like the ugly duckling. At least, I hadn't until then. I felt a sense of epiphany on that day, like turning on the light in a room. People weren't noticing my sister because she was so exceptionally pretty, but because I was ugly. Someday I'd be pretty, but in a future so distant I had never even imagined it before. It's interesting to me that I don't remember thinking: whatever, I know I am not ugly. I do remember thinking, "Wow. I never knew before. It's good someone told me. How embarrassing I didn't know until now."

I continued to think that I was ugly. Then, I decided it was probably better to be ugly. It meant I got less attention. And attention was frightening to me at that time. I was sure I had a "special" beauty that someone would see after they fell in love with my personality. At about 21, I began to suspect I wasn't ugly. Then, at 27, I began to think I had finally reached the age my dad had prophesied. I was finally pretty.

I went to a wedding and friends of my Israeli parents reported that I looked more beautiful every time they saw me. I felt more beautiful too. At the same time, my smile was already fake most the time, I was losing weight rapidly, and my hair had started falling out. I felt like I looked better than I ever had, but wasn't sure how that was possible when the amount of stress I was experiencing was shutting down both my mind and body.

Now, I have gained weight and my hair stays firmly attached to my head. I look forward to going to the gym and playing tennis and racquetball. I feel beautiful almost daily. And even more, I feel taken care of, safe, and loved. I am proud that it is me doing the care taking and loving. I have fun choosing outfits that make me feel beautiful. I no longer wear only plain colored shirts and solid colored pants to work. I have fallen in love with heels. I feel frivolous, girlie, silly, and I love it. I accessorize- with jewelry. It sparkles. I sometimes sparkle too.