I Got New Lenses
By: Akhabue Diadem
Tags: Self-awareness, Journaling, Nigerian Writing, Self Improvement, Teenage Years

Photo by Bud Helisson on Unsplash

I grew up not believing I was pretty. When this thought started, I can’t say but it lay cemented into the very fabric that defined my person. Compliments were strange and felt like a calculated attempt to mock me. I mean, what could be pretty about a short girl with a shorter hair cut (shout out to ISL principal, Nuhu Hassan for those haircut competitions), no earrings or fitting clothes, not even my uniform fit my image of beauty.

Everything was out of place but the extra flesh on the back of my legs was just the worst part, wiggling with every step I took, not matching my small frame. I could have gotten a thinner nose if God really meant for me to be pretty or long and dainty fingers at least. Alas, it didn’t seem like nature counted to be worthy of those things. Leaving secondary school without filling out in the right places properly put a dent on the joy of scoring 264 in Jamb, getting nothing but Bs in WAEC and getting admission at 16 (I just had to list this out, dullness was never the problem).

Imagine my shock when I took a passport photo for registration on my second day on campus and the girl that stared back at me actually looked pretty. She had eyes I liked for one thing. Maybe I could have a fair chance at this pretty thing I thought. You see, the thing about not thinking yourself pretty is that it doesn’t give you the room to even attempt. My clothes instead of being adornments of beauty were just extra covering over the body I disliked. I think I did a pretty good job feigning indifference to those around me though.

A new problem started towards the end of Uni days; I began to fill out what I considered the right places. I even saw a few heads turn when I passed. Getting heads to turn when I spoke or argued, I could handle, but this I couldn’t. But I explored it still. I shed off extra layers from my clothes and allowed the length of my skirt enjoy the freedom of not sweeping the ground. I liked the changes but more than that I liked the attention it brought, however little. It was more like I craved the attention.

Somewhere between service year and getting my first job I stumbled upon the fact that you can also find out how Christ sees you alongside who you are in Christ. He didn’t see me as ugly, he didn’t think my fingers were too short, he saw the entire 5'1 and fluctuating 58kg of me as perfect. The best part was when I discovered that I am the King’s daughter, royalty in all her glory.

I told myself why not try this new lens on and view myself like that. It started well but the curve dipped when I began to feel the need to be the most beautiful in the room and when my feelings were not validated, I would grow insecure and jealous.

The good thing was this time I had to learned the method of handling these insecurities. I knew that Jesus didn’t mind hearing me describe these insecurities and jealousy, so I told him. I described it in vivid detail in my study journals and cried to God.

Guess how I have emerged from the tears, I have emerged a woman who is confident in how she looks even in her disheveled hair (bad habits die hard, my hair is still a mess most times). I see the beauty in all the women around me and it doesn’t dull mine because I celebrate them.

I am that woman who never really doubted that she had something to offer, social media pep talk was wasted on me, I was sure I had value to offer. One thing I doubted was that people will notice that the ugly duckling had something to offer

I haven’t added a single inch to my 5'1 neither has my 58kg stopped fluctuating but any doubt about my beauty and the presence or absence of it no longer defines me.

What changed? I got new lenses people, I am the King’s daughter.