Being an Ugly Woman is Liberating

I just deleted my first response post to another post on Mediun about toxic femininity and because I don’t want my coworkers at work to see what I said (not that they read per se but they stay Googling and Facebooking each other. I don’t get it…I digress.) But that moment of full frontal confrontation with my cowardice in deleting that one-minute read of a post inspired writing this piece.

I’d always envisioned talking about this subject as a TED talk but then I figured who would want to watch my ugly ass pontificate on the beauty of being ugly? See that’s how the brain of an ugly person tends to work. But I’ve learned to overcome my natural inclinations in that regard. Thing is, I suspect a lot of feas, basic women, one-to-fours, and whatever else we might be called might actually enjoy it. My goal is not to elevate the relief and widen the gulf of the experiences that ugly women have versus pretty women in my discourse. Rather, I want to throw some shine on ugly women while casting zero shade to the beautiful girls.

For me, realizing and accepting my ugliness has been a wonderfully fulfilling personal experience and I wish more ugly women, no, correction - ugly people - would just learn to be cool with it, too.

Real talk: everyone can’t be pretty or handsome, just like everyone cannot be smart. These are facts. I don’t put quotes around the word ugly and I don’t italicize the word to give it an objective meaning in the terms of society’s beauty ideals. Nope. Not gonna do it. You might just be flat out ugly and if so, that’s perfectly alright. In my experience, it’s actually advantageous if you manage to werk with it. Plus, I’ll take being ooohwee ugly and smart over being beautiful and dumb any day.

I’ve listed out a few pros of not being cute. I will not bother posting the cons because everybody knows them by now, or should. Please note that the broadly stated thesis in this article does not apply to ugly people who are also monetarily rich because as we all know, wealth washes the ugly away, rendering said ugliness invisible and forever more forgotten. Science says so.

• When ugly people bussout styling everyone is amazed. The littlest bit of flair is amplified to the heavens. It may come off condescending AF, but hey, a compliment is a compliment and compliments are always nice. I’m ugly, not a robot.
• Being ugly, you are often ignored and overlooked in crowds large and small. This gives you the ability to observe and pick up on everything the people getting the attention often miss. By age 35, your emotional intelligence is near genius level.
• On the roads, no one expects you to be a great driver and are truly surprised when they can’t punk you. Yes, I’m that precision driving ugly chick behind the wheel. We do exist. I see you. You tried to cut me off but I saw you inching in two lights back… trying to stay slightly ahead of pace. I see you. God forbid you get in this lane behind me, bruh. Plus, you knew that lane would end. You tried it but not today mfckr. Not today.
• Ugly people have learned the art of how to be petty with finesse aka the petty pounce. Now I firmly believe you can’t be just overtly rude and ugly. I mean, I suppose technically you could be but the world won’t let us get away with it the way good-looking people get away with it. We have the urge to be petty, too, but since the consequences are so swift and strong when we are just brolic with our vindictiveness, we have to sneak up with our spite and pounce. In life, it’s always the quiet ones. That damn cocky zebra woke up dead and didn’t know what hit him. Petty Pounce did it. Keep your head on the swivel, zebras. Wildabeasts do not play games out here.

All in all, being ugly, whether it’s ever said to your face or not, is something to embrace and not eschew. There’s power in owning who you are and the package you are temporarily housed in. It’s a humongous step towards the end goal of spending all dem fux we been piling up since the fourth grade once and for all. You know, the ones you’ve been accumulating ever since you first noticed adults complimenting all your friends on being cute on Parent Teacher night, but never you. You want to deplete the fux inventory, darlings, at least in the Aspirational Beauty aisle, at least.

I am not going to end this piece by saying you are beautiful because you might not be; I’m damn sure not. But just like me, in this moment, you are alive, sentient, probably kind, sometimes funny, low-key petty, and a host of other adjectives that I have not listed that describes the unique being that is you. Your very existence means you defeated innumerable odds in the randomness of your selection. Your beauty, or lack thereof, does not matter because beauty, for humans, is temporary but your humanity is forever. I’d rather work on being the finest human I can be than worry about being simply fine. And if some one else doesn’t like your hard fought sense of liberation? Oh well. Can’t please everybody. Nor should you try. In other words, fuckem. Now go forth and be ugly and figure out a way to be fine with it.