Beauty in the Eyes of the Beholder: How My Boyfriend Taught Me to Love Myself

I am a pretty average girl. My body, according to my doctor, is "perfectly proportioned." I am not too thin or too chunky. I am a little bit on the short side but I'm perfectly okay with that. I have nice hair and fairly pretty eyes. To me, I am okay. I'm no showstopper. I am no Victoria's Secret model. I am okay.

I grew up in today's society, where I was constantly told, from a young age, to make adjustments to my appearance. Beginning in the 2nd grade, my mother set my hair in rag curlers every night in an attempt to tame my frizzy, wild, not really curly but definitely not straight, mane. Contacts came along in the seventh grade, along with the new found necessity to wax my eyebrows. When puberty hit, at the ripe age of 11, I was immediately whisked to the dermatologist to determine how to best tackle to constant barrage of pimples taking up residency on my face. At a critical time in adolescent development, where a young girl's self-esteem is as fragile as a butterfly's wings, I found myself on a constant search for ways to improve myself. Workout routines, skincare suggestions, crazy home remedies, teeth whitening treatments, you name it, I was looking into it. Rather than realize that I had simply inherited my frizzy hair and oily skin from those who brought me into this world, I looked for factors within my own life that were causing these things. I scrutinized myself and my lifestyles on the daily and brought blame onto myself whenever and however often I could.

About a year ago, I was doing a deep cleaning of my room when I came across a calendar from my younger years. As I flipped through the pages and looked back at what had been consuming my time, I noticed a constant stream of numbers riddled across the days. "96. 98. 102. 99." Amazed and horrified, I cringed as I remembered what these numbers were. My weight. 11 year old, extremely self-conscious me had weighed myself multiple times a week, for an entire summer. Tears filled my eyes as I realized the torture that I had put myself through. Why had I been like that? Why did I hate myself so much that I obsessed over the slightest fluctuation in my body and scrutinized every inch of me with such intensity?

Fast forward from that fragile 11 year old to sophomore in college me. I have accepted my frizzy, kind of curly, depends on the weather hair. I have even grown to kind of love it. I am still concerned about my skin and try to keep it as clear as I possibly can. I had gone through a multitude of changes in those 9 years, the largest being my diagnosis of type 1 diabetes at the age of 16. I now had to worry about how to hide my insulin pump. How to disguise the bruises that appear on my arms and legs after my multiple injections every day. I was at the most I had ever weighed, a whopping 120 pounds, and was about to embark on a new adventure as a Resident Assistant at my university. I was still extremely self-conscious and still did not love the way I looked.

Then, something happened. A boy. A boy with perfectly shaped pink lips and beautiful blue eyes. A boy who teased me about my sinus infection while simultaneously being in awe of my handling of my diabetes. A boy fell in love. With me.

And as my love story with this boy grew, something else changed too. I began to see myself in the way that he saw me. The boy who loved my bright blue eyes. The boy who thought my smile was the most beautiful thing in the world. The boy who said mine was the most perfect body he had ever seen. I didn't believe him at first. I argued with him about it. I pointed out countless other girls who had prettier hair, or more perfect skin. Who were skinnier, tanner, had longer legs and more toned abs. I magnified my flaws for him. I tried and tried to make him see me the way I saw myself. But it never worked.

So, I tried a new tactic. I tried to see myself the way he saw me. I began to look at myself from his perspective. I looked back at pictures and saw the way that my eyes lit up when I laughed. I noticed how nice my legs looked in a particular pair of shorts. I saw the joy and love in my heart radiate out of me. It was amazing. I saw myself the way he saw me. And just like that, I grew to love myself.

I still suffer from some not so great self-esteem at times. I still stress about a breakout and get frustrated when my hair is not cooperating. I still feel fat some days and hate the way I look in all of my clothes. But then, I look back at our pictures together. I look at the images from the times I felt the prettiest and I remember that feeling and I am instantly transformed into a happier mood. Even just the other night, I sent my boyfriend a selfie but covered half of my face. When he responded with, "you are so pretty," I lost it. I pointed out the fact that my hair was frizzy as all hell and I had purposely hidden the bottom half of my face due to the fact that a giant, hormonal pimple had decided to set up camp on my chin. His response put me near tears. "I think you are so beautiful and you have absolutely no idea. I get lost in your eyes and I see you for who you truly are."

I know they say you are supposed to learn to love yourself before you can love another, but I disagree. Sometimes, it takes another one we love to teach us to love ourselves. It takes the eyes of someone we care about, the opinion of someone we trust the most in the world, to help us get past our flaws and see our beauty the way they see us. At least that was the case for me. I had to start seeing myself through the eyes of my boyfriend, my best friend, my number one fan, and my biggest supporter, in order to recognize the beauty that had been masked to me by my own harsh criticisms.

I love myself, most of the time. I see have those moments of self-doubt and self-criticism, but I do love myself.  I love myself because I know that, despite all of the flaws I see, I am perfect in someone else's eyes. 

Putting Down the Poison

There is a quote that goes, “holding in anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” Something about that has resonated with me from the moment I first read it. I hold grudges. I hate the fact that I do, but I do not let things go. Blame it on my intensely specific memory, my straightforwardness, or my Irish heritage, but I just have an extremely hard time with the motto “forgive and forget.” I am a trusting individual. If I allow you to become close to me, I will trust you with my life. If you do something to hurt or betray the trust that I gave you, I feel as though our relationship is damaged and I cannot help but see that indiscretion every time I look at you.

Life has a funny way of changing your mind on things though. I have come to the realization that I have so many wonderful people in my life for me to focus my time and energy. I have an extremely loving and supportive family, amazing friends, wonderful residents, and the most indescribably perfect boyfriend. As I have gotten older and at least a little bit wiser, I have come to the conclusion that I simply do not have the time or energy in my being to continue to bare all of these grudges.

My old roommate is the perfect example. She and I did NOT get along, and to be frank, living in our dorm was the worst college experience I have had, especially the last three months we lived together. Today, I see her occasionally. We are in totally opposite majors, but we are both extremely involved individuals. She lives in the same building as my boyfriend, has a lot to do with programs around campus, and is applying to be an RA next year. As I was sitting across the circle from her in a leadership seminar last Saturday, I suddenly realized I was tired. I was tired of holding these feelings of hate. I was tired of cringing every time I had to see her. I realized that our paths are going to continue to cross in the 2 ½ years we have left at our little university and, whether I liked it or not, I was going to continue to see her. So, right there, I decided I was done. I was through with the harsh feelings, the bad taste in my mouth after speaking about her, the glares every time we saw one another. It was just ridiculous. Yes, she and I ended things on a bad note. But we do not need to continue to play that bad note. We can both move on to bigger and better and happier songs.

I have not spoken to her, so she does not know of my plans to move on. For all I know, she is going to continue to hate me until the day she dies. I, on the other hand, am not. I have too much joy in my life to let something as ugly as hatred ruin it. For every toxic feeling or burnt bridge, I have a dozen happier memories and loving relationships to turn to. So, that’s it. I refuse to drink the poison. I’m letting go of my anger and letting my heart be filled with only love.

Xoxo,

Ciara 

Ready for Forever

          “I’m in love! I’m in love and I don’t care who knows!” Will Ferrell, in his Elmer Fudd hat and goofy boyish grin perfectly captured what it feels like when you first fall in love in his Christmas classic Elf. Ferrell’s character, Buddy the Elf, bursts into his disgruntled father’s meeting in order to share the news of his newly discovered romance with Jovie, the girl from Gimbel’s. While Buddy’s proclamation is meant to be a bit dramatic, I feel it is completely appropriate and embodies the feelings that so many of us wish we could verbalize upon first falling for someone special.

            These days, I feel like Buddy. I am completely, head over heels, madly in love with the guy I shared the perfect first kiss with (remember him?!). He’s my best friend. He’s my anchor. He’s my motivation. I can be having the most awful day in the history of bad days, and just talking to him for 10 minutes instantly brightens my mood. Finally, he is also my boyfriend.

            First and foremost though, he is my best friend. Falling in love with your best friend is the scariest, most exhilarating experience ever. You worry because you don’t know if they feel the same way. You’re nervous because you do not want to ruin the friendship. But at the same time, you cannot help it. They’re always there when you need someone. They are the first person you think about when you wake up, and the last before you fall asleep and see them in your dreams. Whenever something happens, good or bad, they are the one you want to tell first. They make you laugh when you’re crying. They make you cry from laughing. They assure you that you are not crazy and, if you actually are, they make sure to tell you that they happen to love crazy.

            This is him. He is all of this and so much more. He is smart. He is kind. He is funny. He is loving. He has the most amazing personality. He’s pretty damn good looking too. All I have to do is see him from across the room, or just know that he is near, and I feel completely at peace. He calms my nerves. He wipes away my tears. He lets me cry. He lets me be myself. I can be silly and crazy or frustrated as hell or just sad, and he takes it all and loves me for it. He reminds me of how beautiful I am in his eyes when I feel like complete shit. He understands that sometimes I just need to cry or talk and it is not necessarily that I need him to respond, rather just to listen. He lets me spread my wings as far as I want, and always manages to catch me when I fall. He would do absolutely anything for me.

            And I would do anything for him. I have never felt as strongly about someone as I do about him. My heart aches when he is upset or sick and I cannot physically help him. When something good happens to him, I feel as though I am on Cloud 9 right there with him. I want everything in the world for him, and I want to experience all of life with him. He is my person.

            I am continually amazed that I have found someone who makes me feel the way he does. They say that soul mates are a real thing, and I finally can see why. He is my soul mate. I once read a quote that stated “We were given 2 ears to hear, 2 eyes to see, 2 hands to feel, 2 legs to move, but only 1 heart. Why is that? Because our other heart was given to someone else and we must spend our days searching for them.” I have found my heart and soul. He is my best friend and my number 1. Loving him is like breathing. It just happens naturally. I cannot imagine life without him. I cannot wait to see what life has in store for us. There is a quote in the movie When Harry Met Sally that says, “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I found my somebody. And I’m ready for the rest of my life, because I know he will be there.

Xoxo,

Ciara  

The Gift of Time

I love Christmas. The decorations, the lights, the joy that seeps into everyone's souls, all of it. I love the joy and happiness, the season's greetings, and the well wishes. I love the scent of fresh pine needles, the warm glow of the fire, the twinkling of Christmas lights, the sweet sounds of carols playing in every store. Most importantly, I love how the holiday brings people together. My favorite part of the holiday is Christmas Eve. My family gets all dressed up and goes to 6 o'clock mass. Afterwards, we come home, my dad lights the fire, my mom sets the table with her good wedding china and her Waterford crystal candlesticks. My brothers and I watch a movie or some Christmas special on TV while my parents finish making dinner. We all then sit down and enjoy a wonderfully delicious meal. Afterwards, my siblings and I help clear the table and then disappear to our rooms to finish wrapping presents. We all reconvene around 11pm and, even though we are all older, ages 21-12 to be exact, we sit around the living room and take turns reading The Night Before Christmas. Then, all of the kids go to their rooms for the night. It is such a wonderful evening.

The presents are my favorite part of Christmas. Not receiving them, although that is nice, but giving them. I love giving presents. The thrill of looking for something that you know will bring a smile to a loved one's face is so amazing. I search and search to find the perfect gifts to give my brothers, parents, and friends. I can't shop too early for them though, because I am terribly impatient and cannot wait to give them their gifts.

The past few years however, since I have been in college, I have found myself focusing less on the physical gifts I give and more on making the memories and spending time with the ones I love. Only after moving 2 1/2 hours away did I realize how much I cherish the time spent hanging out with my brothers. Even simple things such as sitting around the dining room table blasting music from our computer and talking have taken on a new meaning now that I am not home everyday to experience them. The greatest gift, I have learned, is simply the gift of time. Time spent with loved ones. Time spent not doing much at all, but doing it together. Time that could be spent in our respective rooms, on our electronics, talking to our friends. So, this Christmas season, I am going to make a real and conscious effort to simply spend more time with my family. They say time is the greatest gift of all, and time spent with the ones you love is never time wasted.

I hope you all consider simply spending time with the ones you love this holiday season. It is something that may seem insignificant at the time, but will surely leave a lasting impression on all those involved. Merry Christmas!

xoxo,
Ciara

Disbanding the "Friend Zone"

         The friend zone. We've all heard of it. Some of us may have been placed in it, while others have done the zoning themselves. Or, as is usually the case, it is a combination of the two. You friend zone a great person because you say you don’t want to “risk losing the friendship.” In reality, you may just not be romantically attracted to this individual. Or perhaps you are attracted to someone else and do not want to mess up any chances you have with them. Regardless, you place someone in “the zone” and it hurts. It hurts them. It hurts you to hurt them. Then, you pursue the other one and are shocked and saddened when THEY place YOU in the friend zone. It happens.

            Why we place these parameters on people we supposedly care so much about, you may ask. Well, my friend-zoning friends, the answer is simple. Fear. We fear losing. We are terrified at the thought of losing the beautiful trust and compassion we have built with this person. The idea of the relationship not working out frightens us so much we do what we believe is the only logical thing left. We place them in a defined compartment in our heart. We think, subconsciously, by placing these important people in “the friend zone” we can keep them in our lives forever. We will never have to worry about losing them, because they have a designated spot in our lives and our hearts.

            This couldn't be further from the truth. Placing limits on your relationships with someone is selfish and unfair. It is not fair to the other person and it is not fair to you. By limiting the type of affection and interaction that can be held between two people you are limiting yourself of so many experiences. If someone knows they only hold a certain position in your life, and there is no possibility of them being anything else to you, they will feel as though they have already lost. You must allow yourself to be open and willing to see potential in every relationship you have. Give your heart the freedom to choose what kinds of relationships you wish to have with certain people, and you will not be disappointed.

            The friend zone. It is a cheap fix to a large problem. Don’t allow yourself to sink into that pattern. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt and live each and every friendship, relationship, and partnership as though it was the real deal. Perhaps your actions will inspire others in your life to reevaluate the ways they look at relationships as well. I guarantee you will not be disappointed. Beware of the zone, my dears!

Xoxo,

Ciara 

If You Like it Then You Should Put a Label on it

“So are you guys like, a thing?” That’s the question that my best friend asked me as we sat in a booth eating greasy French fries and instantly regretting not going to the gym that week. I had just finished telling her about the amazing guy with whom I was friends and the blissfully perfect kiss we had shared. I pondered the question as I dipped another fry into the puddle of Ketchup plopped in the middle of the takeout box. “Ummm… I guess so? I really like him and he said he likes me, but we haven’t gone on an actual date yet.” As I said the words I quickly wished they were not true. I am a firm believer in the old-fashioned dating game. I want to go out on dates and talk and laugh and get to know each other. I love the thought of waiting for that first kiss; the anticipation of the first date; the butterflies, the making sure you look okay, and the overanalyzing every little detail with your best friends in the morning. I just don’t think this is how relationships begin these days.

This guy is great. He’s amazing. He’s smart, hilarious, and so extremely caring. He is considerate and gentlemanly. We can sit for hours and talk and never get bored or we can sit in silence and do our homework and it’s so natural and somehow still fun. One night, my blood sugars were kinda crazy and he not only walked me back to my dorm to make sure I was okay, but insisted on staying until my blood sugar was at a stable level and I was positive I would be able to fall asleep and wake up in the morning. He did all this without a single thought, despite the fact that he had an early class and a paper to edit in the morning. He’s the kind of guy you are proud to know and proud to be friends with. I am so incredibly blessed that he chose me to grow close to and form a relationship with.

I can’t call him my boyfriend though cause we technically aren’t dating. When I want to describe his role in my life to others, it becomes a confusing array of jumbled words. He’s my friend first and foremost. He’s someone I trust. He’s the guy I love to just lay and cuddle and watch a movie. But he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my friend with benefits either. He’s my potential I guess.

Why, in this age of extreme connections and casual relationships, is it so hard to define what someone is to you? Why are people so seemingly against labeling relationships? When someone means a lot to me, I want to celebrate that. I want to express how important they are to me. I am not the kind of person who wants everyone to know my business. Actually, I am a pretty private person when it comes to my personal life. However, I feel that labeling the role someone plays in your life is just as, if not more, meaningful and important to them as it may be to the way people view your relationship. Labeling the relationship is a way of saying “hey, I like you and you are a really important part of my life and this is the title I think of when I think of you.”

I don’t have a label on this “thing” I have with this amazing guy. We haven’t made anything “Facebook official” (I’m not a fan of that. It just makes things awkward when/if you don’t work out). We don’t know what to call each other except for really important to the other. But I know he cares a lot about me. I know he likes me (at least a little) and I know how I feel about him. So, while a label on this “thing” would be nice, I’m okay for now. 

Listen to Your Heart: Lessons from My Best Friend's Wedding

Too often people do not say what they are really thinking. We’re all guilty of it. We believe that it is better to leave things left unsaid than it is to force ourselves to step out onto the line and speak from the heart. I personally know that I do that. Once, I let a guy know how I felt and was crushed when, the next day, he admitted he did not feel the same way. I avoided him for about 3 weeks after that, purposefully not going where I knew he would be and changing my plans if I found out there was a possibility our paths would intersect. It’s not that I hated the guy; he hadn't led me on or dumped me. We didn't have a dramatic breakup. Rather, I was embarrassed. I hated the fact that he knew what I was truly feeling and did not feel the same way. I felt vulnerable and weak compared to him. My best friend, however, pointed out that, while I may be feeling that way at the time, I shouldn't have to. She commended me for having the guts to show him how I was feeling, stating that she wouldn't have been able to do that.

This got me thinking. Why are people so afraid of feelings? Why would we rather live with so many unexpressed emotions pent up in our hearts? What is so bad about sharing our feelings? My favorite movie of all-time is the 1997 hit My Best Friend’s Wedding. Starring the gorgeous Julia Roberts, the dashing Dermot Mulroney, and a fresh-faced Cameron Diaz, the movie does a fantastic job of showing the real-life dilemma between sharing your true feelings, especially when romance is involved. Jules (Julia Roberts) and Michael (Mulroney) have been best friends for a decade, after a failed attempt at dating. Michael calls Jules out of the blue one day to tell her he’s getting married, and asks her to fly to Chicago to be in the wedding. It is here that Jules realizes that she has been madly in love with Michael. She goes to Chicago with every intention of breaking Michael and his college-aged bride, Kimmy (Diaz) up.

There is a scene in the movie when Jules and Michael finally get to spend some alone time together before the big day. Riding along the Chicago River in a boat, Michael explains to Jules how he feels about their friendship. Here is the clip.

A slew of instances occur over the three day weekend, all culminating on the morning of the wedding. This is the most important part. SPOILER ALERT. After causing Michael to lose his job and get into a huge fight with Kimmy, Jules decides to come clean. She confesses her love for Michael in Kimmy’s backyard, on the morning of their wedding, and then kisses him, as Kimmy approaches.

The scene that follows is the epitome of the movie. After chasing Kimmy around Chicago, Michael and Jules end up in a train station. It is here that Michael thanks Jules for loving him “that much, that way.” Jules realizes that she has lost him as a love interest, but never as a friend. The movie ends with Jules giving the happy couple the song she and Michael claimed as their own.

You’re probably wondering why I am rambling on and on about this 17 year old romantic comedy and ruining it for all of you. Well, that is a two part answer. 1) It’s my favorite movie; I could watch it every day and never get bored of it and talk about it til I’m blue in the face and still love it. But more importantly 2) it’s realistic. It shows that not every story has a fairy-tale ending, but that it’s okay, life goes on. The main lesson the movie teaches is that it is so very important to never leave something unsaid. People deserve to know how you feel. You deserve to be able to tell people how you feel and not keep all of your emotions pent up inside of you.

I have a friend who, much like Jules, is madly in love with her best guy friend. When I asked her if she was going to do anything about it, she replied with a quick and definite “no.” She said she would rather go on silently loving him and never share her emotions that risk losing his friendship over the awkwardness that could possibly ensue should she tell him and he say he does not feel the same way. While I can totally understand her point of view because I've been in that position, I do not think it is smart. Watching her silently be crushed as he flirts with other girls is too much at times. I cannot make her choose to tell him; I can only be there to support her when and if she ever does.

If everyone would just openly tell each other important things such as, “hey, I really like you,” or, “I think we should just be friends,” then the world would be a much happier place. Yes, there would still be heartbreak, but it would be honest and pure. It would not be shrouded in the ugly light that lying, deceit, and covering up leaves. It would just be simple, true, heartbreak. And, while heartbreak may not be the ideal feeling that everyone yearns for, it would be better than the fake happiness so many individuals choose to embrace in today’s world. As George, Jules’ editor, states at the end of the movie, “Life goes on.”

Xoxo,

Ciara