Declining self-esteem.

About 7 months ago I met 'Aamir, and what came with this special companion was his many friends. I'm grateful I met him, because when I did, I made friends with his classmates from secondary school as well as his current coursemates. But that's not the main topic of this post.

Among his secondary school friends was his best friend Luqman, or more affectionately known as Luke. I dare say that today, Luke and I are very good friends even without 'Aamir as the mutual wall; but again, this special friendship is not what I am about to write about.

'Aamir had told me that Luke's English was good too. Sometimes I went to him complaining about having too little people reading my blog. He did read it, but he once said, about a month ago: "What irritates me the most about your blog is the fact that you don't write in proper Caps lock when you start a new sentence."

I went against his suggestions of trying to type in proper Caps. "You just have to press shift each time you start a new sentence, what's so difficult about that?"

I gave him the excuse that if I wrote as such, my text would look copied and pasted, especially my posts that had research and shit. This is actually my first post in years that has its words properly capitalised. [There were a few in February and April this year, but that was because I was blogging on my phone]

So let's now proceed with what I was here for.

Every girl is self-conscious, whether or not you have tens of likes on your selfies on Instagram. I've long accepted the fact that I'm not as pretty as those other girls out there, though I still post pictures of myself on Instagram and I'm still being called beautiful by my grandmother and boyfriend everyday.

Just yesterday I was having fun taking pictures of myself in my new top; it was sort of peplum and I'd never worn such things before. I felt better about myself, after years of thinking otherwise. I thought I could finally go out in something other than t-shirts.

However this morning I did a mistake of stalking other girls' Instagram profiles. And I swear to you, that this mistake was fatal. Not only did it kidnap my self-esteem, but it also tortured my self-conscious almost to the point of death. Right now, my confidence is hanging on a thread, and I'm not sure if I can ever save it.

Maybe they are pretty because their teeth are straight.
Maybe they are pretty because they have dimples.
Maybe they are pretty because they wear skirts and crop tops and dresses and shit.
Maybe they are pretty because they follow current trends.
Maybe they are pretty because their hair is pushed away from their eyes.
Maybe they are pretty because they show off their legs.
Maybe they are pretty because they have curls or highlights in their hair.
Maybe they are pretty because they have big brown eyes.
Maybe they are pretty because they wear tudung.
Maybe they are pretty because they are petite.

The list goes on, but simply put, maybe they are just pretty because they are not me, and I am not pretty because I am not them.

Not being pretty has many setbacks other than the low self-esteem. I'm not popular because I am not pretty, and by popular, I mean more-than-50-likes-on-Instagram/more-than-500-followers-on-Twitter/dozens-of-people-reading-my-blog kind of popular.

And through this lack of popularity, I do not gain recognition for my writing. Many other girls have blogs, which are always visited and read simply because they are pretty and popular. I do not mean to brag, but I think my blog posts are a lot more sincere than these girls'. I write about my life, and, well, just life. Even if I'm not pretty; I just know how to write.

Today I bumped into a few more blogs owned by other pretty girls. And I am scared. Most of their English is good, and it made me realise that my writing isn't as marvelous as I thought it to be. Now I'm not only self-conscious about my looks; I also have low self-esteem about my blog, and my writings.

Who knows, that maybe all this while, when I've published my blog posts on Twitter, my followers were rolling their eyes and saying in their heads, "oh please, not her blog again." Maybe those people who even read it were thinking that what I wrote did not make sense, and that my hardships were just bullshit to draw in attention.

I really want to be known more, just for my writing. Like a classmate of mine had just tweeted; "Girls want attention. Women want respect." I do want respect. For my blog. But I don't even have attention, because I don't have looks. You may think I'm babbling but this is how I really see it; that nobody will ever read my blog because I don't have the attention on my face.

Why am I thinking like this? Because I am not pretty, and that because of this, I am denied respect for my talent. This is really what I think is going on behind the doors of society. I can't change anything about it. I've accepted that I'm not as pretty as you, or your sisters, or your best friends, or your girlfriends or crushes. And without looks, where do I stand?