The hot one
This morning I heard someone refer to Khloe as “the ugly one” of the Kardashian sisters. I certainly don’t think Khloe is ugly at all, but even if someone else does…really? The ugly one? How dickish.
When my sister Andrea and I spent a summer working at Yellowstone, we both had a lot of fun and met a lot of guys (yes, we did as much partying as we did hiking). But as sisters, we were inevitably compared to each other.
One night we were hanging out in a friend’s dorm room. I was laying on one of the beds, and Andrea had stepped out for a minute. I guess I looked like I was sleeping (or maybe people are just completely insensitive) because someone walked in and asked, “Where’s the other sister?” And someone else replied, “You mean the hot one?”
I always knew my sister was gorgeous – people stared at her wherever she went – but hearing it that way, positioning me as the one who is not the hot one, tore up my heart. I laid silently for awhile, then pretended to wake up and nonchalantly left the room. I went to my own room and cried. And cried and cried.
Thinking back to that time, it breaks my heart that my heart could so easily be bruised. Now those words wouldn’t hurt me. Fine, I’m not the hot one, but I’m happy and I’m a good person and, you know, I look pretty damn good.
That, if nothing else, is a testament to how far I’ve come in the last ten years. I don’t need to be the hot one to feel good about myself.
I know how you feel. I don’t have any sisters, but I’ve always been friends with girls who were prettier than me. I was always the third wheel because I didn’t have a boyfriend and they did (which in high school and early college I assumed this was the case because they were prettier – but of course, they were smart girls, too, who were fun to be around. But then, so was I…)
Anyway, it was hard, which is why if we have a girl I just don’t know what I’m going to do with myself during those awful teenage years – I’m sorry, but boys have it way easier. But, that’s the nice thing about growing up and growing into yourself. You learn not to care about that shit. I would never go back to high school. Not if you paid me.
Plus, I think you’re hot.
This is funny you would tell this story… I had the same experience growing up with my (fraternal twin!) sister. Everybody always thought that my sister was the “hot one” and I totally stood in her shadow for most of my teenage years (she had more boyfriends and always liked to be the center of attention, whereas I was shy). To this day, I still feel I have a little bit of a strange feeling when someone tells me I am beautiful, because I always only felt second-best growing up.
Good for you for overcoming this feeling.
I can totally relate. There used to be another “Babs” that worked on my floor. One day someone was referring to her and a guy (whom I thought was my friend) tried to clarify which Babs they were talking about by saying “Skinny Babs?” And I was standing right there!
I secretly hate him to this day.
I can relate too. It is kind of sad that all of us are so able to relate to being made to feel unattractive. Even when I was an awkward teenager, I don’t think anyone would ever have been able to say anything that would have made me think I was dumb (I’d have just thought they were a jerk), but to this day I remember anyone who has referred to me as unattractive.
I probably have the worst story. Not that I’m trying to beat anyone out. I never really thought much of my looks. I never tried to dress pretty, or do make-up, and always wore my hair the same way. When I was in ninth grade and I was hanging out with my best friend at the time, I confided into her a story. That week, I overheard two people talking and one of them referred to me as not very attractive. I told my best friend this, and she actually said in the most serious earnest voice, “Well you kind of are ugly.” Yes, she used that word, and as I write this I still cry. It’s only the second time I’ve ever told that story. I mean I’ve always known I’m not that attractive, but I was trying to tell her how I was hurt, and she made it worse by using the word ugly. What a strong word. I remember not saying anything, saying goodbye. I didn’t even cry when she left I was stunned, a few days later I did. Sometimes, that will still cross my mind and I’ll feel down. The funny thing is, I can’t even remember who said I wasn’t very attractive, but I’ll always remember where we were, what her face looked like as she said it, and how sincere she was being.
By the way, Shannon, I know I have told you countless times, but I have always thought you were beautiful from the first day I met you.
Angela! I am sure you are a beautiful person, inside and out.
Also, A. You are hot!
Also, Doah. Man, I already told you how much I love this post and how important I think it is.
Just. Love you, dude.
Ditto willikat!
Also, as a self-professed late bloomer, I take comments like those in stride and think to myself “She who laughs last…”
I am 25, and I feel like my self identity and self worth are just beginning to take true form. I pity those who peak in beauty (intellectual, physical, maturity-level) so soon in life (and 9 out of 10 times, those are the ones who get called “skinny” or “pretty” or whatever).
So, not to diminish the effects that hurtful words can have (because, boy, those can sting!), but remember that “She who laughs last…” — BHAHAHAHAHA!!!
OUCH!
It is amazing how hurtful words can be. I was definitely a late bloomer. I mean, I’ve been posting pics of myself back in the day so you’ve seen the evidence! I always felt ugly. Boys didn’t like me… they always liked my friends. I had tons of issues.
But reading this story and the commeny by Angela totally takes me back to how I felt in middle school when I scribbled in my diary that I hated myself for being so ugly.
And dude, you’re a fox!
Shan – You know I think you’re hot, right?
And Angie – that story makes me so angry – how could anyone who calls themselves your best friend say such a thing?! And I think you’re gorgeous – I would kill for your hair!