Am I Beautiful?

    There was this one time when my sister asked me something like - "Why are you so funny?" or "Why do you laugh so much?". See, I have this habit of making people laugh with my mediocre jokes and I believe I have a funny bone. I am not sure how many people agree with me though.

My answer was - "I don't know, I feel beautiful when I laugh and make people laugh. I feel that I look ugly when I am rude to someone or when I am angry". I really meant it and I really did feel like I was beautiful. I don't know if it is only with me but, I could never picture myself even though I see myself in the mirror every single day. I could only imagine a blurred face that was somewhat beautiful but always with a smile. This conversation happened around ten years back and we were both young then.

Recently, I remembered this conversation and asked myself the question - "How do I look now?" Again, I could not picture myself but I could see a blurred face, this time with bruises, sad and maybe even ugly. Then I was scared of what I would answer if my sister asked me this question. I was scared that I would have to tell my sister that I am no longer the beautiful person I imagined myself to be. I am sure though that she wouldn't ask me this question. Nobody has the time these days. Myself included. So in a way, I am glad.

But I had to ask a follow-up question to myself - "Why do I look ugly?" I tried hard to figure out the reason behind this change and I had to dissect each of the features of my imaginary face. 

To tell you the truth, the past few years were not easy. I had to fall, get back up, push and protect myself. When I was young, I was far too protected and happy. Just like they say, "Ignorance is bliss". My whole life was a balanced equation. Nothing moved and everything was balanced. I was not aware of the real world outside where it was very difficult to find some balance. 

I had to face situations where the only way out for me was to just stand there and take the blow. I think that is why my imaginary face has bruises. The real world also made me realize that to be taken seriously, I cannot afford to joke around and act funny. I had to be calm and composed to show that I am responsible enough. I sometimes even had to answer back and be rude to someone to protect my dignity. This must have been why my imaginary face looks sad and ugly. 

I have to admit that initially, this change was not easy. I had to put up a facade of being strong when I was really not. Later, the facade just blended in and now I can no longer differentiate. These days, when I joke or laugh, I wonder what my true self really is.