In the eye of the beholder

I've been listening to Ani Difranco's "Not a Pretty Girl" on repeat. When the song isn't actually playing, it's running through my head.

I am not a pretty girl
that is not what I do.
I ain't no damsel in distress
And I don't need to be rescued.
So put me down, punk.
Wouldn't you prefer a maiden fair?
Isn't there a kitten
stuck up a tree somewhere?

I am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled.

I'll spare you the rest of the song. If you want the rest, google it.

So why am I intently listening to a song my friend would place squarely in the center of "Angry Girl Music of the Indie-Rock Persuasion" (name the movie)? Some comments over the past few weeks have left me reeling, questioning myself, etc., and I've been trying to find an appropriate way to deal with them, now that movies and eating are out (although I have tried both, Breakfast Club and Chinese food to be specific). "Not a Pretty Girl" returns me to freshman year, but it also seems an accurate theme song right now (the only better one is "Celibate Life" by the Shins).

After the conversation that broke editorgirl's sanity yesterday, I spent most of the day bouncing back and forth between feeling worthless and downright sexy. By the end of the evening (which came at 3:15 a.m.), I was tired, confused, but leaning toward sexy. I think I'll stay there, if you don't mind.

That was a very long and not very coherent intro to what I wanted to post about, but I'm going to keep it and keep typing. Today has prompted more thinking on the subject. (Did I tell you what the subject was? Explanation: sitting in on a conversation about what makes women beautiful and then several comments directed towards my physical appearance. Everyone up to speed? Good.) And I've decided something: I'm beautiful. And what's more, I'm going to tell you why.

1. Physically (since most discussion of beauty tends to begin on this level), I like my eyes (my favorite feature), my lips (I once asked a friend for a compliment--it was one of those days--and his response was "Your have lips that would be nice to kiss." And I do.), my hair, my height, and yes, my body. I know it's pudgy in some places, but I'm okay with that. It does what it needs to do. And someday I just know that the Renaissance ideal of beauty will replace our mentality of stick-thin, tiny women being beautiful. And even if that doesn't happen, who cares?

2. Maybe I come across as the depressed, quiet, shy, whatever girl when first met. But give it some time. I am entertaining, witty, cultured, etc.

3. I am not a domestic goddess. I never will be. But I can cook, bake, and I am a damn fine hostess.

4. While on the subject of godesses, I am an academic goddess. At least in my field.

5. I am a loyal friend. Try me.

Apparently I have a healthy self-image. But I'm not going to apologize tonight. Sometimes you just have to remind yourself that you are a pretty amazing person. And I am.