I’ve come to decide that I’m never going to be cute. I don’t have a button nose or naturally rosy cheeks and I’m not short and petite. (In fact I’m tall and curvy, which is the exact opposite.)
Half of the clothes I would ever want to buy are automatically eliminated from my wardrobe because they are far far too short and a dress that might look cute on a tiny girl who is 5’4″ automatically becomes busty and va va voom as soon as it even looks at my body. I often find myself asking the question, “Is this a shirt? Or a dress?”
I’m never going to be described as a “dainty little thing” or “just a doll” because I am not remotely dainty, little, or doll-like in any way shape or manner. I shamelessly eat food with my hands, when I wear heels I typically tower over my male counterparts, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t even own a Barbie growing up. I’m almost certain my parents just gave me puzzles to do all the time, which might explain why I attend MIT….thanks mom and dad.
Puppies, babies, cupcakes, other cute things…don’t get me wrong, I love em, but they just don’t make me squeal in delight or drop everything I’m doing. I wouldn’t be caught dead in pastel colors, and in fact the main colors in my wardrobe are black and white. When I wear bows I think people just get confused and I literally never wear solid pink. I don’t have a cute voice or an adorable giggle and I don’t call people “darling” or “babe” or say things like “bless her heart” although that last one might just be something old Southern women say right after they say something mean. Example: “That dress Sally is wearing looks so ratty and cheap. Bless her heart!” I digress.
In the wise words of Marianna Tabares, a blogger for hello giggles, “Being cute means that men feel more comfortable around you because you don’t give them the sense that you can dropkick them at any moment during a date.” I’m going to have to 100 percent agree with this one. I could probably beat up a solid 50% of the boys at my school, and I’m not ashamed to say this. Not that I’m like some gangster thug who even knows how to fight, it’s just that I’m really fiery and I pack a mean right hook. Putting my brute physical strength aside, I will stand up for what I believe in, and I’m not afraid to disagree with someone. I’m extremely independent and I think that might scare some boys out there. I’m not about to lose beer pong on purpose so that I can feed your ego, no thank you. Plus, back to the physical strength thing, there’s something really satisfying about carrying something really heavy in a dress.
Anyway, don’t worry it’s not all bad. I may not be cute, but I am definitely sexy. And I don’t just mean physically. I think it’s sexy how when I’m watching reruns of Friends my laugh is so loud my friends can hear it from the kitchen. It’s sexy how I can wear harem pants and totally rock them. It’s sexy how contagious my smile is. It’s sexy how passionate I am about life and having adventures and making the best of every situation. It doesn’t hurt that when I thrown on my freakum dress I could be twins with Beyonce.
So whether you’re cute or you’re sexy, you just keep on doing you.
Love you E and hope you’re having a sexy ole time.
Missing you loads,