On Self-Esteem

On Self-Esteem
There are well over 8 billion people in this crazy little world. 8 billion of people who are in
different stages of life.Those are 8 billion that struggle, that wish in desperation for a change,
that look at themselves in the mirror once in a while and cry out loud “why me?” We are all
hopeless, we are perpetually stuck in what we believe to be the eternal dullness of our
everyday life and therefore we start projecting, longing. We long and long for a change, an
improvement to our eyes because we are fearful of who we are or rather, of not being good
enough.
One of our greatest projections is found in beauty. It is one of the simplest and most effective
tactics to hurt our ego, to compile with the idea that we are indeed underwhelming. We
compare something that we mostly can't control unless we submit to extreme measures(the
likes of plastic surgery and crash diets). This is true for both genders, we are put in these
tiny boxes and are expected to deliver and fit a mold that has been flawed since the
beginning. The ironic thing is how contradictory this mold is, girls are meant to be at the very
least and approximation to a submissive Barbie but no man (or the great majority) would
ever dare to marry such women. Men are expected to be true alpha males, sweating toxic
masculinity every second but at the same time women want a sweet and sensible guy that
understands them. Both are sad depictions of what we have come to aspire as a society but
that is not my main point.
Growing up I battled with this demons known as insecurities. Being the daughter and sister
of people who happen to be my complete opposite. I was existing parallely to my family, I
was in front of them but distant, not truly part of it and it seemed as I grew older my line
drifted further and further from the one where all my family was. My mom was the beautiful
european daughter of a young man that found his wealth in the coast of Colombia when he
immigrated in the 60´s. She was the rich Croatian daughter of a well established family in
Barranquilla whose life was destined for greatness since birth. Tall, sun kissed skin, long
blonde hair and big blue eyes assembled the beauty of my mother. She was such a “looker”
that when she was 15 in a trip to the states a modeling manager offered to represent her in a
“little agency” called Wilhelmina Models. My father was the youngest to a military family that
gave birth to 6 daughters and 2 sons, my father was my grandfathers favourite, the youngest
and only heterosexual of his two sons secured him to be perpetually loved. As for my three
older brothers, they all stood out in those areas where I never fit in, they were great athletes
with more than a handful of admirers.Till this day the introduction of my acquaintances to my
siblings usually leads to a passing comment remarking their good looks.
I was the misfit, I hated sports, any physical activity really. I was the weakest of my
classmates and by far the slowest. While my brothers grew to be well over 187cm tall I have
remained 164cm since I was eleven. My legs are rather short, my hair (like my eyes) a
sunken dark brown, I believe it goes without saying that I was never offered a modelling
contract. If I was asked to give a count of the amount of times I felt disgusted actually
ashamed of my existence I wouldn't be able to give a number. I recall early on my life not
wanting to go to reunions or events of my dear ones in fear that I would not fulfill the
expectations of those who I was bound to meet, who had a vision of my family that I felt I
didn´t embody. It was ridiculous how much I loathed myself, how fearful I was of being
myself. It all took a drastic turn at age 14 for me . I dieted. I wore makeup. A change had
taken place after many years. I swiftly became the it girl (a very dreadful concept if you ask
me), girls would praise me on my figure and ask me for advice, boys would mention me
when they were asked about the most good looking girls in the grade. I had become what I
thought people wanted me to be. It wasn't long before my change expanded. My fear, my
change started to eat me up.I behaved in ways that wouldn't fit accordingly to my personality
or my true interests. Actions like going to parties, engaging with guys I always disliked,
rejecting my favorite movies or not reading books that appealed to me, bad-mouthing
people that I genuinely liked, both teachers and students. It made me empty, I had found
myself lost and disgusted with my actions not knowing how or where to turn. I started little
acts of comfort to find peace to free from the anxiety that the new me had brought along. I
went back to reading, I took gardening and watched Rohmer´s films in my spare time and
got in contact with the friends I had left behind, I was working on my identity which lead to
me finally putting the pieces to the puzzle to who I was. I found solace in me,myself and I.
Self love is not found, its build. I´m still building a healthy relationship with myself, truthfully
i'm currently under maintenance and there is nothing wrong with that. You can't love yourself
unless you know yourself and come to terms with what is/can be lovable of you. Being a film
buff and an unstoppable reader I was bombarded with images of beauty that at times
intensified the cultural standards to which I was subjected. but also paved me a way to
construct my own understand and definition of beauty. The women that empowered me, and
the men that supported those standards helped me reflect on the true value of beauty. The
beauty that I came to terms with and build a healthy relationship towards. The influences that
you have, the references that wish to consume will either build you or break you. They are a
reflection of you, an extension if you wish
Attractive people are appealing, charming, they attract you. Gorgeous people are well,
gorgeous. physically globally good looking, little beings that unfairly come close to
perfection. Not everyone is born to be gorgeous or has the ability to come across as
attractive. To be beautiful proposes different standards. Beauty implies a depth and
charisma that goes more than skin deep, a beautiful person is not one defined by his height
or her chest, beauty doesn't have a size zero body,or a luscious hair. To be beautiful is to be
elegant, to be noble, to be courageous, to be knowledgeable and humble. Aspire to have
style, to age gracefully, to be a hardworking individual, instead of obsessing over calories
and stressing yourself to look like a model.
I fall short to many standards, but I arise with others. It's my duty as a human, as a member
of my community to acknowledge the good in me. I am what I am, I was born to be Silvana
and no one but her. I'm kind, I'm smart and at times I can be wiser than my years, Im
sensible. I'm full of love, not only my own but of others. I can only do as much as to share my
own definition and path to self. Now it up to you.

On Self-Esteem

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