THE CONS OF TEENAGE HOOD

((This is a personal post. This not to offend anyone or to pass judgement or to anyone with a similar problem or for me to gain sympathy. This is my blog, this is my space to let go and my space to write whatever I wish to. And if this somehow-someway, comes to offend you. I suggest you exit this page))

I somehow always come to wonder what standards of beauty society has given us throughout the different era's and ages.
Having big buttocks didn't really become a thing until 2014 with the amped up hype over celebrities like Iggy azalea or Nicki Minaj.
Which i don't have anything against. Let me be real, I love Iggy. I think she's amazing.

But this isn't to talk about big buttocks and iggy azalea.

The cons of teenage-hood (16-19years old)
It's suppose to be beautiful, adventurous,  romantic, sexy, free and all beautiful things.
But, that of course. Only plays apart when you, yourself are physically beautiful.

NOW, before you come slamming at me telling me I'm so fucking swallow that only beautiful people get beautiful experiences or things.
Think. Long and hard about that thought.
Think about how much perks beautiful people get.
Not according to a gender. Just beautiful people (attractive people) in general.
You'd more likely get attracted to someone physically appealing.
You'd more likely get a job and more likely probably have your salary raised.

So how does this link to teenage-hood.
Growing up, going through puberty.
Now, puberty in itself.
It's beautiful and also comes with a price.

I've been through it. And I thank god I did.
Also with help of certain things like getting rid of glasses, getting taller and figuring out how to properly dress myself without looking like a clown.

The price is, getting acne, growing hair in certain places you wish god forbid to be even be placed there in a certain place.
And, us. Ladies, we bleed.
BLEED.
BLEED.
BLOOD RUSHES OUT FROM THE SAME AREA WE ARE BEING BORN FROM.
BLEED.
BLOOD.
And we have to wear diaper like objects for days and days and not to mention cramps.
Oh don't even fucking get me started.

But this isn't about menstruation or the beauty of woman-hood.

So, Acne.
It's terrible. I hate it.
I'm not the type of asian girl who has spotless smooth, baby skin.
Oh trust me. I'm surrounded by girl-friends who rarely get a spot on their face.
Who rarely grow hair and who look like they bathe in goat's milk everyday.
Along side with getting periods, acne comes along with it.
I didn't sign up for the 1-1 package.
I've always been bothered about it.
Especially when occasions come round and i have 5 zits sitting on my face mocking me.
And of course, many tell me.
''Go have it treated!''
''Aren't you washing your face?''
''Do you get enough sleep?''
''Doesn't that bother you?''
''You'd be so much prettier without those!''

Do you honestly, think, even for a second, that I want pimples on my face?
Do you honestly, think, even for a fucking second, that I don't wash my face and treat this?
DO YOU HONESTLY, THINK, EVEN FOR A FUCKING SECOND, THAT I THINK I WOULDN'T BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ALL THESE?

PLEASE. DON'T SAY THIS TO ANYONE. ANYONE. NO ONE LIKES HAVING PIMPLES.
NO ONE LIKES HAVING THIS.
NO ONE. SO PLEASE, DO US ALL A FAVOUR. STOP SAYING THIS AS IF WE PLANTED THESE CREATURES ON OUR FACE.

As much as I'm always bothered by it.
I never tried to hide it with foundation or concealer.
I never wanted to bother them even more.
So, that's coming from me.
Here's the real deal.

People around you re-act to you differently when it comes to these type of situations.
Especially, close family.
My mother, this evening. Came home from work, all chirpy and high hopes.
She settled her things down and turned to face me for a hug.
She stared. Full on, fucking stared at me in disgust.
And told me,
''Annalisa, you better come with me to the doctor to get those things off your face.''
And i responded.
''I know, i hate it as much as you do. Do you think i really want this?''
"I'm not trying to blame you. I'm just telling you.''
''Then don't put it that way! You make it sound like I want these on my face!"
And i ran back into my room.

I'm not trying to be melodramatic or get into an argument.
I cannot elaborate how bloody hurt I was when she full on, fucking stared at me in disgust right when she got back home from work.
Now this isn't the first time. She has always been more concerned of my physical appearance more than my mental health or emotional stability.
And this has got me thinking.

Do mothers, parents, consider their children as an object? Trophies?
If, I. Myself, have acne, gain weight, not a size 0.
She will criticise me.
Is it because she doesn't want to be viewed as a "Bad Mother"?
Just because I unfortunately have all these unwanted symptoms of an "Ugly Child"?
Because only being perfect, in a physical context can make her "Proud" to have such a beautiful child?

So, plainly being said.
I can never be beautiful, to you, because I'm not perfect. In your eyes.

She also continued about how every month I get these pimples and how my eyebrows look bad, and how I do my makeup.
Now I've mentioned this before, I'm fairly stubborn. I don't do things for the thought of another person. Not even my mother can tell me what or what not to do.
But I'm sensible. I would understand why she wouldn't want me to wear a translucent skirt with my ass hanging out. Or how she wouldn't want me to hang out at 4AM somewhere unsafe.
But being commented and being told these all over and over again.
Especially by the one person who is supposed to be accepting of your good days and your terrible days.
Before someone comments on why I haven't been to the dermatologist to check-up on my pimples.
I've read online that sometimes these medications can fuck with you and reduce your acne for awhile, once your off the medication. It could come back worse and It could really fuck with the well-being of your health.
That's why I never really wanted to resolve this by pills. I rather much wash my face on a regular basis, refrain from using minimal to no face make-up (foundation/concealer) and knowing to moisturise and tone my face daily.

On most days I do wear makeup, but it's always eye-makeup and my eyebrows. I don't think I've ever been the regular user of foundation and concealer because of the fear It'll clog my pores and cause more of these horrendous creatures on my face. But after this encounter, I fear that maybe I do really need these to conceal what I'm most insecure about.

For comparison purposes, here is my makeup and no makeup face.

You can obviously tell which is the before and after of this. And I apologize for the shitty lighting in the photo with no makeup. But even in the photograph with no make-up you could clearly see where the pimples are. My eyebrows are obviously not as defined as my eyes are naked as naked could ever be. But I will never apologise for looking this way and for wearing makeup. I solely do this for myself. I might apologise to my Mother for acting a certain way. But I'll never apologise for what I said about her putting It in a wrong way. Yes, she loves me. I do know that. But she put laid it out in a context where it was hurtful and not in a manner where It could be taken lightly. I'll never apologise for the way I look. I will never apologise for what I put on my face. I'll never apologise for the things that happen beyond my control. I accept that I will never be everyone's cup of tea. And I'm totally alright with that. (AND IF I MIGHT ADD. MY EYEBROWS LOOKED AMAZING TODAY. AT LEAST TO ME.) -Twitter @anajuliettee -Instagram @annajuliettee cr: The banner at the top is done by me.