I’ve been wanting to write this post for a long time but I can’t. I cannot do it justice without hurting people left right and center and much as I would love to let it all out I remember that with freedom comes responsibility.
The post was to be about the person who first told me I was ugly and I believed them. It was to be about how the things said to us as young people shape our lives.
I don’t know how I was aware of it or how it came into my sphere of knowledge but from about 7 years of age I knew I was ugly. Ok so maybe ugly is harsh but all the same I knew I was not pretty like other girls. I had serious buck teeth. I still have a large overbite but not as bad thanks to my mother and my dentist of many years. (I never did the railwaytrack things, we couldn’t afford them)
Perhaps it was in standard 1 when the “Urembo squad” girls teamed up and left me and Z out of the group. We were the only two girls not included in a “squad”. There was the rich girls, the pretty girls then there was me and Z. Or perhaps it was in standard 3 when Mrs T was praising all the girls handwritings and when I quickly jotted something down and asked her how mine was she said it was not as good as Urembo Squad girl no.2. And so it went on throughout primary school. I got acne far before my teens, had blemished teeth due to flourosis, was always the tallest girl in my class. I look back and my heart goes out to the girl me, yet in a strange freakish way, it never bogged me down. I was never depressed but I was needy. I clung to the little morsels of friendship from the Urembo Squad girls. Oh I so badly wanted to belong. But Z stood by me and we were always together. I was mean to a certain girl. Let’s call her D. P had joined my class in standard 5 and had decided to be my friend then comes along D and to me it felt like she was trying to take her away from me.. out came the nastiness. I wasn’t directly nasty to her.. but I was sneaky nasty. God to be in Standard 5.
Standard 6 was hellish. For a term or two terms, memory fails me, no one talked to me in class because I somehow managed to piss off Queen Bee. I remember going to school not having a fully equiped set and needing to borrow a protractor from the classmate who sat besides me. She refused to let me use hers, while the maths teacher waited for us all to measure our angles. He then walks over to classmate and takes the protractor from her and gives it to me. She had two. Me begging mum to buy me a set cause no one would lend me stuff. Mum refusing cause she had no money and the set she bought in January was to last the whole year! Standard 6 was one hell of a nightmare. OnlyJ would talk to me and that was after school when she would ring me and tell me how in trouble I was with Queen bee. To this day I remember Queen Bee clearly and wonder what I would say to her if I ever meet her.
Back to being ugly. I accepted I was not good looking and that no boy would be interested in me. So when all the girls were having boy crushes, I was not bothered because boys did not feature in my dreams. The same attitude carried on to high school. I didn’t go for the prom (social) in form 4 and 6 because I figured that it was better not to go than be benched =not being asked for a dance. I stayed behind with the group of “saved girls” who believed proms were immoral. It was a fucked up mess.. the religiousity of my school.
My first kiss was a nice guy. I let him because he was kenyan and cute and was interested. I knew I was not what he wanted, but I was almost 21 and had never been kissed. Then came this West African dude who wanted me and he was a wanted guy sorta.. but he wanted me and that was just unbelievable.. but I did not want him. He did good for my ego cause he got crushed when I turned him down. It was then that I begun to think that maybe maybe I was not so ugly.. cause if West African guy wanted me.. ..hello.. dude wanted to buy me a mobile phone ..those were the days they cost a fortune. To tell the truth, West African dude kinda signed his own dumpee fate. One day when walking in town he says to me in conversatin “You certainly not the prettiest girl I have seen, you’re ok.. I mean I have seen prettier but you’re ok” and I was thinking “idiot.. you’re trying to get in my pants, the least you could say is that I am the prettiest thing you ever did see.. make me feel wanted” dude signed his fate.
Then between kenyan and West AFrican guy was South African dude. Oh baby! God bless K. God bless that man. For those few weeks he where showered me with his attention he did more for my self worth as a young woman than anyone could in a hundred years. He was GORGEOUS. He was BEAUTIFUL and he WANTED ME yet he had all these beautiful women around him but for those few days and weeks he wanted me. I knew what he wanted from me and was unable to give it up.. but Lord the man was fine. I heard he still is and guess what he remembers me. K knows an old friend of mine in passing. They bumped into each other a few years back and he was like “hey you know Mrembo.. how is she” so friend of mine whom I hadn’t spoke to in ages cause she had immigrated called me and was like “what the hell did you do to that man that after all these years he still remembers you”….my ego flew!
Every ugly girl deserves a K in thier lives. The man who will show you that you are desirable that you are woman.
I got lost reminiscing. I got smiles just remembering. I kid you not that man was finer than fine.
and I have completely lost track as to why I started this post. K has me smiling.
I think, that like fine wine I have aged beautifully 🙂 or maybe I am fine with who I am now. Big Al is responsible for a lot of that. Just the other day we were talking and I was telling him (seriously) how for a long time I thought he would call it quits. I couldn’t quite accept that he wanted me and that he found me attractive. But he did and he does and more than any of those guys I have mentioned he made me feel special from the very first time I met him and that’s how I kinda knew that he was the one!
Ugly or beautiful we are all people wanting to be desired and when you find the one.. oh the magic!
(you wouldn’t believe that a few hours ago I raised my voice in anger at my husband for the very first time. That’s what love does. He is the one person that can piss me off without even trying.. but I love and like him still)