The definition of the Ugly Friend:
The one friend in the group that is an unlovely sight. May be identified by bushy brows, buck teeth, or even lack of inclusion in Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter pictures.
I’ve always known that I was the ugly friend. There is no denying it and if you argue with me, I will slap you silly and call you a liar.
It all started 22 years ago. I was just a small figure in my moms belly but I was on my way to being something big. One might say I was destined for greatness! Or at least that is what my parents had hoped for. I’m sure they never hoped for what the outcome actually turned out to be and when they gazed into their new little girl’s eyes they knew just one thing; I was destined to be the ugly friend. I would say that I was so ugly my moms body started to reject me, and on the day I was born, I came out with my middle finger plastered to my forehead. That was the beginning of everything.
I have to give myself some credit here. After I got past the repugnant two’s, I was adorable. I mean I rocked straight bangs from ages three to eight and I rocked them well. I had cute bushy eyebrows, thin brown hair, and good skin. I had it made and I’m sure my parents thanked their lucky stars at night that I was a decent looking child for those five years. However, all good things must come to an end. A lost tooth here and a couple arm hairs later, I was back to being an unsightly little thing.
I bet right now you might be reading this thinking that I am just fabricating, but fabricate I do not. In the third grade, a lovely student by the name of Chris was pulled out into the hall to talk with the teacher and I because he had already been so rude to me. While standing out there with the teacher on my side and no hope in his eyes, he pulled out the big guns and said seven little words I will never forget: “Shut up hairy arms and bucked tooth”. Shut up I did. I can’t remember if I cried or not but that was the actual beginning of everything. From there I took note of my appearance and my surroundings. By age nine, I was already being friend zoned. In fact, I think I invented the term “friend zone”. That’s what usually happens when something happens to you so much, they start to make a name for it. So now you know, I am the reason behind the madness. Now I am not saying that you “need” a boyfriend to feel pretty or accomplished. But, when your friends are the favorable ones in your crushes eye’s, you start to feel some type of way.
So anyway, a few rejections here and a “you can only borrow my eraser if you be my boyfriend” there I had gotten comfortable and sat in the drivers seat on the friend zone journey. In the mean time, my hair was starting to thicken, my teeth were revolting, and my eyebrows had went from “so cute” to “she would be cute without those eyebrows”.
For a brief moment though, things were looking up. I HAD A BOYFRIEND! We dated the majority of my sixth grade year and in that time, I got my eyebrows waxed and I started visiting a dentist, regularly. But, not much had really changed because he broke up with me and I was back with me, myself, and I.
(Let us not forget)
Seventh grade was worse. My good friends Dillon and Brandon could probably tell you how rough it really was and even though they pretend to not know what I am talking about, they very well know EXACTLY…what I am talking about. One day we were sitting at lunch and I offered my pizza to these two fellows who had forgotten their lunch money. In a quick moment they looked at each other, laughed, and refused to eat my pizza after me because of my teeth. A lot of feelings were hurt that day including the pizza’s. That poor pizza, being rejected because of my unfortunate fate. I went home and began begging for braces and by the start of my freshman year of High School, I had braces. (Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much in 8th grade. At this point we were all wearing Hollister, discovering straighteners, and making messes of our faces.)
I would say that High School was a little bit better. It seemed that the worst was over and I was becoming my own. I embraced my braces and the hair on my arms didn’t seem so bad. By this point, I was just letting life happen and when college came around, my braces were off and so was I. I was on my way to start new somewhere else and I was pretty comfortable with who I was becoming.
Since then, I have noticed that the older you get, the less your appearance matters. I still have my days when I see that same little bucked tooth girl in the mirror. I should probably invest in Invisalign because she is starting to come through in my everyday life. However, I can say that I am happy with who and what I am. It may have taken me 21 years to realize and I may make a joke here and there about how I know you don’t post pictures with me because I’m not up to par, but it’s okay, I forgive you. I also admire you for dodging the chance to make yourself look better, I appreciate it.
In the end, insecurities are real. We all have them. Just remember to not let that little jerk kid from your third glass define your life, I know I didn’t.
Thanks for reading.
Your Ugly Friend,