Do you maintain a various set of people that you hang out with? Like people from your grade school, high school, university, and people from your workplace? Well, I bet you have. And in those different groups, there is always the smart one, the funny one, the tall one, the small one, the beautiful one and the ugly one — the one who typically receives less attention to no attention at all.

Well, the ugly one in the group has always been me.

When I was in grade school, I tried joining different activities and paid attention to my studies because that’s all I could achieve. My dear friends were all pretty and smart. They consistently capture boys’ attention ALL.THE.TIME! Their looks made me envious. I heartily wish I was as pretty as them. I naturally have dark skin, mild acne, and I am short. Never have I ever been someone’s crush.

High school. Precocious puberty. I thought I would blossom into an exquisite woman like that in movies, but unfortunately, I didn’t. My friends were gently turning into more charming human beings (It’s unfair, I swear!) but I stuck being the ugly duckling. They had many suitors, unsolicited gifts and love letters while I got reports and projects to finish.

Then college took over. Looking back, I felt more miserable wearing those jeans and shirts as if I was forced into looking like a guy with my pigtails. I wouldn’t forget that P.E. class during my freshman years. We had to dance on our foundation day.Everyone must dance in pairs (And no one would want to pair with me.) The professor partnered me with a guy from another department course who looked arrogant. And well, he was a complete jerk who always skipped rehearsals.

In one case, my classmate’s partner was late. He told me we should pair up for the meantime, but ditched me on the side without a word when his pair came unexpectedly. It was humiliating and excruciating. I almost shed a tear.

As if “UGLY: Don’t touch” was inked on my forehead.

No one asked me on a date until graduation. It shouldn’t matter that much, but seeing my friends being ask on a date, being courted, showered with compliments, was torture without them knowing I was feeling like that.

When I started working, putting makeup was my best alternative to look pretty so that people would notice me. I was wrong. No, I was utterly mistaken. I was too caught up trying to be pretty. I forgot how to be kind to myself. I realized I was trying too hard to become beautiful physically.

Soon enough, I encountered brilliant people that made me feel awesome about myself. They enlightened me how to enjoy myself, and later on the shine came radiating from within. I felt more alive than I have ever been to. I discovered many things about myself — the things that I detest and enjoy.

I realized that someone can be beautiful without a pretty face as long as you have a big heart, you’re kind and empathetic. Moreover, you love your perfect imperfect self.