Ugly Ducks (lengthy rambling)

(I am not going to edit this post)

Ah, this feels great! For the past couple of days my mind has not been talking much because it’s been a busy week, which means: DO DO DO DO DO. Doing just clogs your brain, leaves you no time to think of anything at all (to me, at least). Right now it’s way past my bedtime (11.14PM) and since my mind is talking, I should take advantage of it and start writing whatever’s chattering.

Oh man my head has branched out many things to talk about and I think I’ll just talk about the least offensive to anyone or not controversial in the nation: me.

Lately I’ve been getting A LOT of questions from strangers asking me if I was a mixed blood, where am I from, etc. It’s not surprising because I do look weirdish but what’s surprising is the number of the same question I get within a week at different places.

I used to say “Oh no it’s just my grandfather” but now to cut things short I just say “Yes.” And then I get asked more and more about my “mixed heritage” and then I just say “I don’t know, I’m not close to them.”

This afternoon at lunch somehow mom brought this topic up again, because apparently a woman at the mall recognised me via my client (wow first degree connection). Mom then started talking about how people think I’m a mixed blood because I have a “sharp nose” (no I do not) and I have “big eyes” (to me they’re just average). These are really what people have told my mom about me.

And then she said, “But you were an ugly duckling. I pitied you when you were younger.”

Kurnia, my sister said “Mom, do you know the story of ugly duckling??”

Of course she does.

I laughed at myself. To have my own mom pity me, to have other people worried about me that I can’t find a husband because of my, I really am a sad case huh?

No, I am not the kind of person to feel hurt about the comments being hurled at me about me. If you think I’m ugly, okay sure. You think I’m fat, okay whatever. Isn’t that easy?

I don’t see the point of fussing over what other people think of me. I do fuss over what I think of myself to meet MY OWN EXPECTATIONS, but if someone were to call me fat – I wouldn’t mind. If I called myself fat, I mind.

Easy peasy!

Another reason I brought this up was because yesterday my baby brother found an old video of me back in 2009. I turned it off within the first twenty seconds. Ugh, so annoying. Haha.

And then I just went to my old blog to find hidden stories or anything I could compare myself with.

Let’s just say that Old Fifi was so annoying. “Old Fifi” falls into the Ugly Duckling part of my life.

Apparently, she was texting a (couple of) guy(s), but she only liked one and she was not talking to him, and every one of the guys she was texting knew it but Allah knows why they still texted her. And she was completely oblivious at that point of time, it’s only now that she realised that people won’t text you on a daily basis if they didn’t have any kind of interest in you.

That’s just how it works.

I think she’s annoying because what the heck, Fifi? You were only 13-16 then, why are you exposing your personality to so many boys? Where is your modesty and self-worth? But then again, she never went into any relationship with any one, and alhamdullilah for that.

Actually, I am more than thankful to be given this opportunity, so that I know the different types of people there are out there and how right now I am unfazed by approaches.

I know a couple of girls who go all shy and giggly when a guy talks to them. My point of view is: if I still had this birthmark, would you come and approach me? Answer is, NO. Back then when I was a “ugly duckling” I’ve never been approached in person. Now I get more of that which is annoying and so unflattering to me. Makes me feel cheap and unworthy by their advances. I would like to be judged by my heart and head and not by how I look first.

Which is why I want to don the niqab but there are many complications that come with it because it’s not a requirement in Islam (thus my parents deemed it unnecessary) and I am a freaking fangirl. I want to wear it because I do not welcome the unwanted stares and noticing of the details on my face. No, thank you.

For a big part of my life as a teenager up till yesterday, I thought of myself as a nothing in “love” – part of it being the guy I had the biggest crush on said no to me, because he assumed I wanted to “be with him”. I never wanted to be with anyone (for real), it was just a crush but people around me thought otherwise. I’m an innate fangirl, so naturally I just really talk and be really loud about whatever I really really like.

Because of that people think I was desperate (no) and I remember “friends” made fun of me because I was “rejected” – in my head I wasn’t rejected and didn’t really care about what people said but I just stopped. David came at the right time too, so I was able to completely forget everything. I don’t remember, it was six years ago.

Anyway, back to being “nothing”. Yesterday from reading my old blog I was reminded of something that happened that jogged back into my memory: the guy I had a crush on actually asked me out.

All these while I thought it was just me.

Me being me, that I really did just like him because it’s just ANOTHER CRUSH and not a serious liking, when he asked me out I asked him who else is coming? Because me being me I don’t go out with a man/boy alone. Long story short, we didn’t go out.

I hope I am not “nothing” in “love” afterall, lol.

Twenty-five-year-old Salamahafifi if you’re reading this, I hope you have achieved whatever you want to achieve (that you’ve always kept a secret). I hope that by the age of 25, you would have taken a picture with Kim Jong Kook, had lunch&dinner with David Archuleta and married off the man you constantly pray for and have adorbz and beautiful and good little Muslims & Muslimah children.

This has been one weird post.

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