*PUBLISHED as 'Tired of Being Tired, Sick of Being Sad' by Azia To *now on amazon*
This is the book I wish I had when I was 12, 13, 14 and growing up until I was 20. It's the stuff I wish I told my high school self.
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This is how I feel - these a...
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Megan Fox
I wasn't sure what I wanted to talk about first.
Start big and talk about common issues like severe acne, or walk through a less known path like the things I wish I knew about sex, or my rare health issue that I know girls who have it are either being misdiagnosed or are too scared to speak up about it?
So, I asked myself, what would I want my daughter to know first?
Considering she would be young, I'd start off at my one of my youngest memories in 2007.
At the age of nine, I thought I wasn't pretty because boys didn't like me.
At the age of 20, I still struggle with the age-old question, 'Am I pretty?' because I think boys don't like me.
I get it. We live in a world where we're preaching self-love and we're chanting the "strong, independent woman who don't need a man" mantra and hashtagging girlboss across every platform.
Yet saying those empowering words is much easier said than done.
I sense a dramatic eyeroll coming on but hear me out.
I grew up as the girl that boys didn't notice so you can imagine it's really hard to be all, "I'm fucking awesome and I matter and people care about me and I love me" if no one even notices I'm alive.
And I'm sure there are girls out there like me who weren't the 'It' girl that all the boys had a massive crush on,
who was the last one picked,
who were always below-the-radar,
who if stood out – stood out for face-reddening, pant-shitting reasons (hello first period story and that one time I walked into the glass door while everyone watched),
and, bluntly put, I thought no one wanted to date me because I wasn't pretty like the other girls (sometimes I blamed it for not being white – shoutout to my white-washed childhood, woohoo).
I didn't have a boyfriend in elementary and high school (particularly because no one ever asked me) and it wasn't until university when some idiot was stupid enough to date me (my beta fish lasted longer than him).
I didn't get asked to go to prom and I blamed so many of my physical features – even my skin colour, never thinking once that maybe there wasn't anything wrong with me.
I'm that girl.
I blame it all on the first Transformers movie.
Okay – I don't blame a single movie to be the ultimate culprit to the corruption of my adolescent self-esteem and sense of worth. I recall being nine when the first Transformers movie came out.
It was a hot day in August, and I distinctly remember my tiny sweaty legs sticking to my aunt's beige leather couch in her stuffy living room.
It was the scene where Mikayla (Megan Fox) lifted up the hood of Sam Witwicky's car and smoke blew up her shirt and strands of her baby hair lifted up along with Sam's dick. I was hooked.
