I was sitting in a restaurant with my aunt , wishing to have some actual bonding time with her . After six months , I could finally talk about how amazing the school was , the friends I made . SoI finally sat down and had a chance to talk to her face to face , but the word coming from her mouth was just like a heavy blow , struck my head : ‘ Plastic Surgery .’
My aunt was encouraging me to do plastic surgery because my face didn ’ t fit in with the Asian mainstream . That my nose was not perfect , and my chin was not long enough .
Still , two years ago , I was sitting in my car with my aunt and my mom . It was after dinner , and we were driving back home . I was so sleepy , so I closed my eyes , but I didn ’ t fully fall in asleep . So I overheard my mother and my aunt ’ s conversation , about me . My mom was complaining about how bad I was doing at school , about how I didn ’ t get the perfect grades , and then that word slapped on my face---- ‘ ugly .’
My mom was talking about how ugly I was , about how to transform me : “ Why did she become uglier after she has grown up ? Why couldn ’ t she be prettier ? How could she find a boyfriend in the future ?” My heart pounded , my thoughts mixed , my stomach twisted . I cried loudly and silently at the same time , with thousands of teardrops rolling down to my heart . I wanted to wake up and shout to my mom , the women I loved so much , that you shouldn ’ t describe me like this , that you shouldn ’ t put me down with society ’ s ridiculous beauty standards .
At the age of fifteen , I still didn ’ t fully form the concept of stereotypes and feminism , so I embraced these criticisms tacitly . Confronting a lot of fixed stereotypes and traditional perspectives from my home country , I have constantly been told that women and girls need to be pretty enough to be defined as a success in their lives ; women should be slender and flawless ; women should focus on their beauty more than their wisdom , and a woman needs to fulfill her life by finding a husband .
43
One year ago , I asked my mom about the reason why she used ‘ ugly ,’ such simple but powerful adjective to describe me . She said she was just joking , and she didn ’ t really mean it . But jokes like that hurt . They etched in my heart , making me doubt myself and letting me to ask the same question over and over again ‘ Am I pretty and skinny enough ? Will people like how I look ?” I felt jealous of others , embarrassed of myself , ashamed of critical comments , and I even got to the point of feeling like a complete loser .
Now I look around , and I find comments like that are around every corner . In jokes and gossip , or a simple comment on social media , people try to label and put down each other based on appearances . And it ’ s not always only about the criticism that men put on women ’ s appearances ; it also matters on the comments between women themselves . Whether it ’ s a whisper by ear , a talk behind someone ’ s back or a malicious comment on people ’ s face , applying beauty and body standards to anyone is not a comedy or joke . It ’ s a way of conscious hurting and bullying .
Till now , the comments that I was afraid of fighting back when I was fifteen , those that seemed so painful , are still haunting me . It is a memory I will never forget , a memory that I now recall whenever I witness girls who experience similar criticisms . From the experiences in Putney , I gradually learned that the way people perceive me shouldn ’ t be the way I perceive myself , and no one should judge me in terms of my body and appearance . But , sometimes , I still try my best to keep myself on a diet , to skip meals , to contour my nose simply because I still want to stand out in crowds , to look like the girls on social media , but the most thing I ’ m eager to get , after all , is my aunt and mom ’ s approval .