i already forget how i used to feel about you

painfully honest.
If I had to list my greatest sin of all time, I guess that will have to be that of vanity. Now, now, stop rolling your eyes like you knew it all along. It isn't as if YOU aren't guilty of that sin. Everyone is vain, it just differs on the degree of vanity. Vanity doesn't stop short at physical appearances. It extends to being result-conscious, brand-conscious, FRIEND-conscious.. anything that would affect your image.


Vanity was encouraged ever since I was a little girl. No, my parents didn't tell me to be vain. They didn't tell me that make-up and pretty dresses are essential for happiness. They always told me that happiness is independent from material and worldly possessions. My dad told me never to date a rich man because you might be dating him only for his money not for love, or you don't know whether your relationship can withstand the test of financial strain(my mom told me never to date a man who doesn't pay, but that's a different issue altogether).


Now, vanity was encouraged through praise. Whenever my grandma praised me with "oh what a sweet little girl you are.. hou lang.. lang loi.. jin swee..". Vanity was encouraged when family friends praised me "oh your daughter's so pretty!" Whether they meant it or not is immaterial. You don't really know how hypocritical the world is when you're five and sucking on a lollipop.


Vanity was encouraged even through fairytales. Every princess is beautiful. Every prince fell in love with a beautiful princess. The world is so unfair. Princes can come in the form of frogs and beasts and bears but no.. not for girls. Princesses are always beautiful and gracious. No matter what. And don't you list Shrek to prove me wrong. Now, say it to my face, blame me for being vain. Look at the toys around little girls. Have you EVER seen a fat barbie?! Or any doll for that matter? How about just a pimple? Ok, fine, just a mole. Find me a doll with a mole. Don't draw one on, that doesn't count. And now, tell me. How can I not be when everything around me was engineered to make me vain?


My earliest memories were of being obese. Yes, I was obese. I remember being barred from sweets and chocolates (I never had a sweet tooth so i was ok with that) and cokes and MACDONALDS (now that hurt. no french fries, uh-uh. )when I was little. I remember relatives saying how fat I was and how chubby I was and how cute I was. and I remember being affected about it. Yes, as a 3 year old I was affected by weighty issues. You don't tell a little girl she is ugly and make a joke out of it. We remember. Never mind that it was just baby fat and that 8 years down the road I was to be severely underweight (No, the weight loss was not intentional). The fact remains that nearly 20years later, I still remember uncles pinching my cheeks and saying "wah your girl is a ball." And I still recoil from horror stories of how my maid quit because I was getting too heavy for her to carry when I was 8 months old. I'm not ashamed of the fact that I was fat but at that point, when I was obese, I remember feeling that it was not ok to be obese. I wasn't devastated but I knew fat was not pretty.


Everything was fine, and I was contented being my mummy's sweet little girl. Then adolescence hit me and that was when things went downhill. When girls started growing taller than me, when they started filling out in areas where I was and am obviously still lacking in. I never had a serious skin issue till I reached university so I was saved from that. I dealt with being too skinny for a long time. I looked too young, I hated it when people kept saying I was sweet and cute. I wanted to be more than just cute. I wanted to be beautiful. stunning. gorgeous. something more than just sweet.


I don't think my mom realised the impact she had on me. My family has extremely acerbic tongues. I'm considered kind compared to the rest of my family. And I'm not exactly tactful. The women in my family embrace tact like LKY embraces democracy. Unlike most mummys who think their girls are future miss universes, my mom does not think I am beautiful. She goes the other extreme. She thinks I'm a freaking genius. She calls me the brain and my sister the beauty. Not that she doesn't love me, I know she does. She is very proud of me. But she doesn't see me as beautiful.


"Eunice, actually you are very pretty. You just need to change your face and body." (classic)
"Can you stop eating so much carbo? Will grow fat one you know"
-grabs my arm- "hmmm.. getting big ah.."
"why your face like that?"
"you want to go for plastic surgery when you're older?"
"you know your husband really loves you because he definitely didn't marry you for your looks"
"Where did my figure go? Why didn't you inherit it?"


I know you think she was just joking. I'm telling you, she wasn't. She wasn't saying it in jest. I don't think she meant to hurt me. She's not that cruel. She's just painfully frank. She honestly thinks I'm plain. Not that I'm ugly. But..plain. To a young girl trying to figure out her self-worth in the midst of growing up, it was quite a realisation that I was nothing but plain. I was not special.


Now, I may be vain but that doesn't mean that I spend hours in front of the mirror. And contrary to what I hear people say about me, no I don't spend hours dressing up before I go out. I don't choose clothes to wear the night before. I spend half an hour MAX dressing up. Usually 5-10min. I don't use make-up unless I'm working or when it's a big night out. I don't understand why people say I over-dress because I'm in tanktops and jeans most of the time. Yes I have boots. Yes I have unusual stuff. Yes I like bright coloured stuff. But most of the time, I'm in cargo pants and jeans and flipflops. I can dress up if I want to but I don't do that unless its a special occasion. I don't have an extensive skin-care routine. I don't shop much. I am careful with my money and what I spend it on. I buy only when I REALLY REALLY like something. When that happens, I don't mind spending. But that's extremely rare and happens maybe twice or thrice a year.


My vanity is confined to the way I feel and react. I may not spend an hour a day on my face, comb and style my hair when I leave the house or apply mascara or lip gloss or foundation. But I do get upset over breakouts and bulging tummies. I hate the way my hair falls. I hate the way people gossip about my weight gain or my frumpy dressing. I hate it. I may solve bad hair with ponytails and weight issues with baggy clothes. Practical fuss-free solutions. But I do get affected. I express my vanity not through excessive efforts to beautify myself. I am extremely fuss-free. I NEVER blow my hair. I am vain because I am concerned about how I look.


The more I think about it, the more I think this vanity stems from an innate need for self-validation. When you're more confident about yourself, you don't care as much about how the world views you. You feel good about yourself. You feel unique and special. I think that's one of the greatest pull of being in a relationship. Look at the people around you. Don't they seem happier, more radiant, more confident when they are in love? They smile more, they walk taller, stand straighter. Because you are and feel wanted.


Was it because I had to split my parents' attention and time with their never-ending work and other committments with 3 other siblings? There was once I went to stay over at my friend's place. I was 14 or 15. I told my mother but she probably didn't take much notice of it or she forgot. At 11+ when my dad returned, he asked my mom where I was. That was when she realised that I was missing and started to panic. Imagine if my dad had not realised I was gone, I could have been out gallivanting the whole day and my parents would not have noticed. Perhaps this lack of attention affected me more deeply than I had perceived. Maybe I need validation from the world because I never really got attention as a kid. Not that I wasn't loved. Not that they neglected me. But they gave me a lot of freedom and independence which perhaps liberated me more than necessary. Maybe subconsciously, I lacked a strong parental presence to validate me. My parents praised me and trusted me a lot. Maybe a bit too much then.


Look at the world around us and how it expects us to be a certain way. Who can blame another for being a certain way? It seems that we have to be a certain way, to act a certain way, to be funny in a certain way in other to be related to. in order to feel beautiful and attractive. It seems impossible to be ourselves, to be wholly unrelated to the world's expectations and still be accepted.


Nonetheless, it seems hardly an excuse to be this insecure about myself especially since I am a Christian. Why should I let the world and how the world views me dictate how I feel about myself? What does it matter to be accepted by the world, or to be validated through the eyes of the world as long as God loves us?


"Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world the love of the Father is not in him"-1 John 2:15


It must be that I fall short of what a Christian should be like. And I fall so short.