What makes me ugly? (Personal Essay)

I was staring at the mirror when this very cliché question suddenly pops out of my head. What makes me ugly? Normally, the first thing that I tend to point out is my scars.

Yeah, normally, but not today. Today, something other than my scars seemed and felt ugly. So, I close my eyes and try to listen to myself.

There’s a voice. There is definitely a voice. It’s the sound of my own weird voice echoing inside my head, only distorted. It’s trying to tell me something.

I listen, paying more attention this time. I couldn’t make sense of it, no. I open my eyes, breathe, and then close it once more. There it is, much louder and clearer. It says…

Sometimes, you tend to deprive yourself of something because you thought it will not do any good to you, just to realized later on that you’re doing it because you thought you don’t deserved it.

Sometimes, you tend to be so transparent. You disclose each of your emotions to people that easy. You thought that it’s helping, but little did you know, it chains your neck to their feet. One day, you’ll wake up and you’ll find them dragging you wherever they go. You can’t function on your own. No, not anymore.

Sometimes, you tend to be sad a lot that you get used to it. You can’t make fun for the sake of fun anymore. You became just a mere shadow; a hollow silhouette without any lips to smile or voice to laugh.

Sometimes, you tend to be so overly-attached. You entrust your own demons to someone without realizing that they have their own demons to deal with. You get hurt when they prioritize their own demons over yours.

Sometimes, you tend to be so overwhelm by the things that you have to do. You get sidetracked, you lose sight of your goal. You give up and quit just when you are about to finish the race.

Sometimes, you’re thinking a lot. You tend to give meaning with everything. You give negative meaning to every damn freaking thing that it scares you and makes you run off.

Sometimes, you’re feeling too much. You don’t give your heart a break. You don’t give your heart a break from all the pains and aches.

Sometimes, you tend to immobilize yourself. You allow yourself not to make any progress because you don’t want to make any progress at all. You’d rather be scared to do the thing all your life.

Sometimes, you complain a lot more than you do. You keep talking about the pain but you never try to nurse the wound. You just keep talking about it thinking somehow you’ll grew tired of it but it isn’t the case.

You’ve been exposing yourself with the same harm, the same pain, the same habits. You’ve been growing yourself a garden of dilemmas. They’ve been spreading all over you heart, into your head, to your soul and your whole being. Soon, you’re going to be just a shell. A shell with nothing but poison inside. Do you want to be that shell?

And that’s the time I open my eyes back to the reality. Back to that same greasy mirror with the image of a greasy girl, with scars on her face, and in her heart. But despite that I smiled; I smiled because now I know that these scars is not what makes me look ugly. It’s this head. It’s these thoughts. It’s everything inside me other than my scars. No, it’s not my scars. It’s never been.