I have great legs. It's a fact. No matter how much weight I gain or lose they will always be phenomenal. All throughout high school I fussed over my waist-line, my hips, my feet, everything!...Except my legs.
The truth is they probably aren't the best looking in the world, but the secret is I believe they are. No I can't tell you how to stop your body-criticism, but I can tell you that words have power. I was at a pool party in the 6th grade when the mother of the birthday girl pulled me aside. She handed me a piece of pizza and one of the most enduring compliments I've received to date: "Liliana, you have some great legs!" It wasn't anything over the top and she didn't keep me from scuttling back to the pool, but for some reason I chose to hang on to her words.
Later that year we had our winter social - which usually would have terrified me because I was a die-hard tomboy with a no-dress-policy - but I looked at myself in the mirror and thought "I do have great legs". After that, I strutted around in my little party dress and had the best night possible. And every dance, party, date, etc since, I've always found confidence in myself because even if everything went wrong at least I still had great legs.
That mother probably doesn't even remember me, let alone the comment she made. However, her words affected my self-image in the best way possible and I'm thankful for her taking me aside to tell me what she did. It's the simplest, little things that can truly resonate with someone. You may not realize it but words hold immense power. The words themselves, not the person speaking them. It wouldn't have mattered if the woman was a complete stranger, I still would have nurtured the delusion that I was a knock-out.
So I challenge you to find a way to give someone a simple but sincere compliment. It may seem like an insignificant thing, but you never know how your words will touch someone. And with that, remember that negative words can be just as powerful, but in a detrimental way.
On How do you boys
I don't really know what I'm doing right now, but after much animated storytelling, my friends have told me I should start a blog. Maybe that means that they don't want to hear my stories anymore, so they want me to find a creative outlet where I can ramble on endlessly about useless things, but who knows.
Anyway, because I'm young, I feel like I don't know a whole lot about anything. Sure, I'm on an academic scholarship here at university (which, by the way, I am doing an excellent job at attempting to keep--I have a philosophy exam tomorrow morning and yet here I am, writing this post), but really, I forced myself to lead such a sheltered life in high school that I feel like I don't know much about this magical thing called being a teenager. In high school, I watched anime and Korean dramas and screamed and cried over boys that don't know I exist--which I still do--so now, as a university student, I have begun my quest to understand the mechanics of getting drunk and kissing a lot of boys. Three weeks in and I have gained much of this desired knowledge.
I suppose before I can really talk much about my new life and how I'm living it, 1600km away from home, I should start from the beginning. I warn you though--it's not really anything special.
Now, when I say I am questing for the secret to kissing whatever boys I want, that makes it sound as if I have no idea how to do so already, but that is not the case. See, when I was in kindergarten I was apparently a master at the art of kissing boys. I had a grand old time kissing my fellow four and then five year-old classmate/boyfriend named Daniel (or something) until I moved across town and started at a new school. After that I had not much luck, until sixth grade when a boy decided he liked me enough to ask me to be his sixth grade girlfriend, and, not really seeing a downside to it, I accepted. He was a glorious sixth grade boyfriend for seven months until I decided I was bored and didn't really like him much anyway. I wasn't missing out on much after that, just a few hugs or something, but no kisses. Darn. Sometime before that though, I kissed a boy named Brandon when we were playing hide-and-seek, but I don't think he remembers.
Flash forward two years later, and I found myself in another situation where I could've kissed a boy. There was a boy I did not get along with at all, but I had feelings for him, and I didn't like it. At least, didn't like it until I found out that he had feelings for me too, and after that point, I was very pleased with those feelings. Still being close to the beginning of that wonderful stage of life called puberty, we were awkward and he couldn't even ask me to be his girlfriend himself because he was so shy, so he sent a friend of mine out into the hallway when I was about to leave for a dentist appointment to ask me if I wanted to go out with him, and I so cleverly said, "just tell him what he wants to hear." Superb. He went away for Christmas break and when he came back I decided I didn't like him anymore and broke up with him over MSN messenger, which was a not-so-brilliant decision. Less than a week later, I regretted my decision, but of course I couldn't tell him that because I had been so cowardly as to break up with him online in the first place. Lame. At the same time, another boy had been jerking around my feelings by telling me he liked me when he actually didn't. Also lame.