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Afam: The Blue Print On Beauty

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By now we’ve all heard of her. She is Lupita Nyongo. Her accent is musical. She is stunning in a way that isn’t singular but in spite of this manages to be the source of many a debate. The debate doesn’t go so far as to discuss the alignment of her facial features or the stark contrast between her white white teeth and her dark dark skin every time she breaks into a smile. It often remains fixated on the idea that she is too dark to be classed as beautiful. But none of that matters. She is stunning to me. The man that first said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder wasn’t a fool. When I think of beauty, sometimes I think of me. You see, I know me. I know my faults, and my failings and all my weaknesses. I know my disgusting bits so thoroughly that I do not see my redeeming qualities clearly. Some times I doubt that they exist. This is me. I am sure that sometimes, it is you too.

The other day, I said to my brother Gbaddy, “Gbaddy, I feel so monumentally stupid!” I was beating myself up over the fact that I’d come out of a negotiation even worse off than I was before it began. All I could see at the time was the stupid.

When I was seven, I climbed up to the top of a shelf to retrieve my year book for a girl I thought I would marry at the time. When I found it, I held unto it with both hands and pulled. My seven year old weird brain did not understand that without the book to tether me to the shelf, I would return to the ground in so forceful a manner that the entire misadventure would leave me without my two front teeth. I felt ugly, and stupid then. In my first year of high school some senior called me ‘scissor tooth’ as an affectation. I embraced it on the surface, but really, it was more diss than compliment. My late aunt would call me handsome. She always said it like an exclamation; like it was a breath of fresh air; like calling me handsome gave her joy. I didn’t see it. 12 year old boys with no front teeth, pot bellies of childhood, and malnourished arms and legs could not be good looking.

I got braces, I straightened out my overbite, and I got caps that masked the jagged edges of my childhood gaff, but they covered nothing. They healed nothing. I could finally smile with all my teeth, but nothing had changed. I was ugly to me. The girls marvelled at my new smile courtesy of Schubbs and dollars, and the expertise of Dr. Amy. I shifted the focus once reserved for loathing my teeth to the pot belly of childhood that had remained with me past my years of childhood. I did sit ups, maniacally, obsessively, reaching ever higher. At first it was 30, then it was 100, and then it was 300. I gained the abs, but my stomach didn’t grow any flatter. I had achieved the impossible. I had gained a defined 6 pack over a very rotund stomach.

I wasn’t particularly happier than I was before I’d begun, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a measure of contentment. I would at least get compliments for my 6 pack even if it was over the stomach typically found on a 40 year old suffering from abdominal obesity.

I’m 23 now. The pot belly is still there, but it’s smaller than it was. I’m skinny enough that people can see that I never actually had a pot belly. The illusion was the result of my curved back and abnormally large rib cage that my father swears I got from his father. My widow’s peak grows more lonely by the second and I feel fat. Well not fat per say, but that pot belly seems to be making a come back. If all of this had happened when I was 17, or 18, or even 19, I would have been distraught but now I’ve got an odd appreciation for these things. They really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. If my smile is perfect but not soothing, or contagious then what good is it?

All the wisdom my 23 summers have afforded me, has led me to see that no one holds the blue print on beauty. All that really matters is that you’re beautiful to you. You need to see the best of you. Someone once told me, “if you do not love you, how can you expect anyone else to?” I don’t believe that anymore. I think it should be more like, if you do not love yourself, then how can you expect to be deserving of the love that you receive?

I suppose this shows that the price of wisdom is youth, and that it does get better.

Photo Credit: Hakeem Salaam Photography

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Afam is the man-child behind the blog the ramblings of a madman. Follow him on twitter @Afam20

18 Comments

  1. sigh

    March 7, 2014 at 1:12 pm

    i think u are very sexy Afam. And I do stalk u…on twitter, and ur blog.. do u have instagram, that i may do so more stealth because my BF doesn’t use that one. heeheeehee

    • Top Afamzer

      March 7, 2014 at 10:05 pm

      instagram.com/theramblingsofamadman
      There you go…

  2. @edDREAMZ

    March 7, 2014 at 2:13 pm

    Nw this is my best line…. ””When I think of beauty, sometimes I think of me”” but am not beautifull am handsome…..lol…
    .
    .
    .
    ***CURRENTLY IN JUPITER***

  3. Author Unknown

    March 7, 2014 at 3:34 pm

    Unfortunately, even with time, it never goes away for many. It’s very important the words we speak to kids, as our self-confidence starts to form that early. I personally am more confident about my looks because my parents and older people around me growing up complimented me first.

    • memebaby

      March 8, 2014 at 5:00 pm

      you are right about this one.. growing with an angry father that never hesitated to call be a “fat fool”. i think I stopped eating for a while in pry 4/5 mum noticed i lost weight and it was world war II with my dad..that ended, then I started stammering whenever he spoke to me..damn nerves..I can say for sure he almost ruined my self confidence. after I left the country and him behind..still had self esteem issues and spoke to a grade 12 teacher about it and she completely changed my life ( teen seminars etc, counselling et al ). Now I’m 22, my confidence level is just too high. So yes, building a child’s confidence early is very important as mine was almost destroyed while growing up only God knows what would have happened if I stayed in that environment too long. smh

  4. Fancy

    March 7, 2014 at 4:16 pm

    This touched a soft spot for me. I have been quite unlucky with Love, and I realize, it may be as a result of my constant disregard for myself, I always think taking time to appreciate myself is a waste of time and even resources. I rather try to shower it all on others: *sigh* doesnt get appreciated most times. God help me.

  5. Ekwitosi

    March 7, 2014 at 5:08 pm

    Afam you are great writer I hope to read a book from you one day!

  6. Simplybecause

    March 7, 2014 at 5:25 pm

    Afam you are gifted. Your writing is incredible.

  7. omada

    March 7, 2014 at 6:23 pm

    “I think it should be more like, if you do not love yourself, then how can you expect to be deserving of the love that you receive?” Well said.

  8. zeenie

    March 7, 2014 at 8:05 pm

    very well written… i love the last paragraph the most.

  9. Sunshine

    March 7, 2014 at 8:46 pm

    Afam get in touch

  10. chi-e-z

    March 8, 2014 at 7:43 am

    You know I had to say it …. “Crooked Smile”-J.Cole. True beauty comes from within. You can’t mask a funny intelligent man, or a nice and humble woman like you can a scar. What’s real is something that them hair,bras, six pack can’t be and that’s you.

    • whocares

      March 8, 2014 at 2:00 pm

      “We aint picture perfect, but we worth the picture still”.. lovely article Afam.
      PS: we re watching you and your instagram stalker o. loool.

  11. Stephanie

    March 8, 2014 at 9:30 am

    aiit
    blogsvila.blogspot.com

  12. Ashanti

    March 8, 2014 at 3:54 pm

    in my Rupaul voice “if u dont love urself, how the hell u gon love somebody else?”

  13. Tobi

    March 9, 2014 at 9:08 am

    You’re amazing you best believe it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!

  14. roots odutola

    March 9, 2014 at 4:15 pm

    AFAM!

  15. Wanda

    March 10, 2014 at 2:32 pm

    This is such a touchy subject for me. I’m going to be 30 this year & I have never heard my parents say – I love you – to me or any of my siblings. Yes they show us love and they brag about us to their friends but they’ve never actually said those exact words to any of us.
    I have tried to explain to my mother especially how the careless comments (this your hair is ugly, ur legs are too skinny etc) and backhand compliments affected us but she’s beyond repair. Most of my physical flaws were pointed out to me by my mother and its funny cos i’m her spitting image.
    It is hard to feel beautiful when the voices in my head are opposing so loudly but i’m trying and its a daily fight to overcome. Hope to raise my kids differently, build their esteem and confidence from day one. Its the greatest gift of all.

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