I have a big problem: I’m too pretty. Yeah, I know what you are thinking: “Oh, no, poor thing, she’s good to look at, probably gets all the guys. What a big problem to have!”
Yes, well, you might think that this is a blessing, but to me, it’s a curse, and I’d like you to know how it lead to becoming a total recluse!
So, this all started when I was a baby. People would walk up to my mom in the street and coo over how cute it was.
“You have the most beautiful baby girl!” They’d say “I have never seen any toddler as cute as her, it’s amazing!”
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They all agreed that I should be doing modeling, even when I was too young to stand up. You know, for like baby cloth stories and stuff. Mom refused because she didn’t really want me exposed to all that shit from such a young age.
Mom got used to people just walking up to her and wanting to pinch my cheeks or stuff like that. I had really big eyes and super pale skin, as well as cute lips and a tiny little nose.
“She looks like a porcelain doll!” Old ladies usually would squeal, and some were even kind of rude about it, asking: “Who does she look like in your family?”
Yeah, people can be nasty. Mom’s beautiful, but apparently not as gorgeous as I was. It’s messed up on so many levels.
Now, you might be thinking I’m bragging and just exaggerating this whole thing! I wish that was the case! But no, no, no! I’m not making this up! I don’t always feel like the cutest girl out there, I sometimes have a bad hair day or feel my skin is too try or something... but people tell me otherwise daily.
At first, it made me feel like a queen like I was the most stunning girl to ever walk the earth. That did me no good, and soon I decided it was ridiculous. I was just another girl, and I wanted to be treated like one.
When I was about 10, mom and I were eating out in a restaurant, and a guy randomly approached us.
“I’m a casting director, and your daughter is perfect for a campaign I’m running. Would you come in for a photoshoot?” He asked my mom. It might sound like a scam, but mom did some research and he was the real deal. He worked for this big modeling agency that focused on child talents. Mom thought about it, but in the end, she decided I was still too young for it, and refused the offer.
The guy insisted a few times, saying that I showed so much promise and could make lots of money, but mom remained confident she was making the right choice.
So, yeah, that was my childhood. But then puberty hit and everything became worse.
You see... believe it or not, I was kind of shy. I didn’t like people constantly staring, you know? So when I started to develop and my body became curvaceous, I had a really hard time with the attention it produced.
Guys began calling me things like Sugar, baby, gorgeous, boo, and all those silly names.
“Come on, shortie, give me your number” One would say. Or “Sugar, I’ll take you out on a really nice date”
Yeah... cliches all the way. It was so annoying! And I wasn’t ok with that shit! They never wanted to really talk to me. They didn’t care what I liked or what I hated, they weren’t interested in my hobbies. All they cared about was my looks.
Do you know what the messed up part is? I’m smart, too. No one thinks that’s important, and sometimes, they don’t even believe it’s true. Like I get good grades because teachers have the hots for me.
I’m really good at maths and chemistry. I love, love, love everything to do with those subjects and want to go to college and study to become a chemical engineer. A guy once laughed at me when I told him that.
“Girl, you should be a playboy model or something, don’t be dumb!” He said. I couldn’t believe


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