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Blasphemies of Insecurities

Blasphemies of Insecurities

Assalamualaikum 🙂 Howdy y’all! Yes, it’s been quite a while. So the last entry I’ve written was during World War 1… Okay.. kidding. I was busy, as usual, working. Making money. Making myself happy. Happiness does come from money. I can assure you that. So… A question. How familiar are you with this quote?

Nobody is perfect.

All of us have our own insecurities at one point in life about ourselves. Maybe two. or maybe three. All of us have our own insecurities about ourselves. Each and every one of us has our own flaws, imperfections, faults, blemishes, defects and weaknesses. Some of us concerned about our looks, height, weight, skin complexion, skin color, race, hairstyle, eyes, body shape, that gigantic-McDonalds-feet, the egg-shaped head, faith and beliefs, the way we walk, the way we talk, the way we dress.. and the list is never-ending. Ever. And these “flaws” have resulted in our insecurities about ourselves. They define us, they make the society judge us for our looks and beliefs, and because of it they somehow triumph over us and control our choices and how we react and interact in the society. Some people handle insecurities well. SOME. While some may not. For example, I have a friend who suffered from a rare skin disease which cause his skin to lose pigmentation. Ventiligo. Which if you haven’t heard about it, I suggest you ask Uncle Google. It was a white spot on his right eye and it is very hard to cure. Impossible, maybe. The one that make your skin go white and they eventually spread all over the body. So, because of that, a lot of mean, good-for-nothing kids have been calling him names. They called him The White, The Eye and I guess the most ridiculous of all, DISABLED . He’s called “Disabled” because of his skin condition! Now, what type of dog-ass person would say that?

Ahh.. right, Human.
And because of that, I guess, he’s broken. Inside. I can see the reason why he doesn’t talk much. I can see it every time he walks, every time he talks and every time I look into the pools of his sorrow soul.

You see? The society will judge. or maybe the voices in your head.

Don’t judge a book by its cover?

Say Sayonara to that son-of-a-fairy tale. I buy a book if the cover is attractive. (most of the times..) It’s part of marketing 101, people! I am not saying to forget the quote completely, but to survive and thrive in this harsh, judging-ass society, yes. You should. We should.

Ouch. That’s harsh.

I just recently saw a guy with the same skin condition. But it’s all over his palms. And I can see in his eyes that he’s embarrassed with it. You can always tell that a person is insecure about themselves when they don’t have the guts to look others in the eyes. And it just occurred to me.

What kind of NAMES have he endured throughout his life? How can he handle shaking others’ hand without feeling embarrassed if the other person refuse to?

We have a lot of very rough, lack-of-common-sense people in the society.

That’s why unsecured women wear 5-inches of make-up. The same reason people undergo changes under the knife. The exact cause of why image-concerned people don’t go out of the house. Although this is not always the case because there are also a lot of crazy people who made ridiculous changes to eventually look like a lion. or is it Cat Woman?



Perfection is what always shown on the media. perfect skin. perfect hair. perfect body. Although that is fact, but most of us, believe it or not, either you realize it or not, is forcing yourself to be one. To be perfect. This also includes me. I have my own insecurities. I was the fat kid with very severe acne problem and scars all-over-his-face in high school. I didn’t care about being fat, because I consider myself as “chubby” (and I was to make me feel good about myself so that I can continue eating) but the skin problem was (and still is) a very huge problem to me. It was not so much of a problem when I was 13, but when I reach 14, that’s when I the monsters set out. We can’t help it but to JUDGE and COMPARE ourselves with others. Some of my friends, until this very day don’t really face any skin problem. The worse might be two or three pimples every now and then, but mine are far worse.

I won’t say as if my acne was a-first-world-problem, but at that time, it was.

Since 14, because of those insecurities, I hate being photographed. Especially individual picture. I hate it so much, I may actually kill those who dare to take a picture of me at that time. Exaggerate much. There’s one time my English teacher gave us an assignment to make each class member’s biography and a picture of every pupil must be included. Then, they tried to take picture of  each and every one of us. My picture, I have to admit, was the hardest to take. My picture end up being the only one caught from behind while I was looking back. I was avoiding it the best I can. When I was 15, I can still remember when a teacher of mine, said “What’s Wrong With Your Face? Your acne is becoming worse.” To put a cherry-on-top of that story, it was in front of the whole class. The WHOLE frickin’ wtf CLASS. Then I noticed every eye on that class is maybe closing-up to my face.  On My acne, maybe.

I remembered crying at bed because of it.
I remembered hating myself because of it.

I remembered that after the end of that day, before sleep I may have ‘brutally’ washed my face with hope that the acne would go away the next day. And after that, did I get better?

No. Obviously -.-

“that is why your face got worse, Genius..”

Yeah, yeah whatever.

Because of acne, I’m afraid to ask questions to teachers directly face-to-face because close-up chat is so not working for me.

I did once, and end up the teacher looking at me like “Why is your skin like that?”

And my curiosity to learn and ask more questions died at that exact line. Along with my soul and dignity. May they rest in peace… And because of acne, I hated to be seen with my porcelain-skin brother. I don’t hate him, I just hate being seen with him. I would do my best to keep that up especially when we’re in school. Although sometimes he misunderstood it that I may be ashamed to be seen with him because of him, but an incident, my worst nightmare, finally opened up his eyes. It was after a school assembly when I was 16. I met up with my brother just to chit-chat a little, the exact time when one of my friends come up to us not to say “Hi” but to kill my soul. “You look a bit like him,” he said to Elvin while looking at me. “Except that he’s scarred more and have a lot of pimples.” There you have it. Another part of my soul flew to the after-world. And my brother, as always, gave me a pep-talk. I cried my eye balls out when a guy comment on Facebook; “…your VOLCANO-LIKE FACE..” I cried for weeks. Boohoo a guy crying because of his face…

R.I.P Dignity..

I was scared to death if I’ll be the guy with the most terrible skin in PLKN. And I was. I was scared if I’ll be the guy with the most problematic skin in the University. And I’m on that list. That’s why I’m terrified to make friends sometimes. Frightened of being judged. That “urghhh… his face is…” Rejecting myself before others rejected me. That’s why I refused to take that role. Why I refused to stand up. Why I get stressful all the time. Screaming. Shrieking. Asking. Questioning the Lord, “Why Me?” This toxic embarrassment somehow overwhelms me from actually being me. perfect Yes, that’s how insecure I was. Even now, I hate being in pictures. Although, I know I would regret it if I end up without any pictures of my memories. I hate it when the light is bright. I loathe myself every time I look at the mirror. At my laptop. At the reflection of my face on my iPhone. It’s traumatizing every single time people mention about skin products. I flinched every time I hear the word ‘skin, acne, pimple, blemish…’ I detest the skin product on television, banners and everything in between. It’s getting really annoying when someone says ; “Hey, this product is really good…” “you better stop eating…” “you should try…” “…stop worrying..” They want to help. Well, help is not needed. When I was 17 and happily eating at the canteen with friends, a teacher, who is sitting in front of me was staring at my face… “Try not eating eggs and chilies for 2, 3 months. Your skin will got better..”

Wow… that was like in front of my peeps, wtf Sir??

Yeah he wanted to help… but , still.. A lot more where that came from. But these are not my point. Then I tried to rethink and reflect on the bright things in life. The gifts in life that The Creator has provided me. A great life. Superb mom. Loving brother. Understanding and funny family. A lot of friends. Friends who care, adore and love me (if this wasn’t true, it might be me in my own bubble world, so it still count haha) Oxygen (you can’t possibly miss that one) My great personality Food, drinks, things, IPhone… Sometimes we overlook the blessings in life. Because of the things we are not happy of, every good things become invisible. We become ungrateful and lose sight on the things that’s priceless. Mass media have make it impossible to accept imperfections.

The models. Perfect skin. Perfect hair. Perfect frickin’ everything like wadda fish…

Then, I finally decided to let go. Letting go of becoming perfect, letting go of the need to get people’s approval, letting go of the society’s judgment.

And embracing myself as I am. Loving, caring, approving, forgiving, accepting, and adoring myself. And doing things that I am always good at. Being awesome!

Every time I have to present anything to the class or confront people, insecurities will magically appear as always. But that is when I say “eff you beach”. Image IS important. I’m not saying it isn’t. And yes, I am recovering from this skin problem. Although still in a bad condition, I am slowly healing. I’m grateful that Allah made me this way. Because a lot of things and insecurities that I had overcome, have made me a much better, wiser, braver person. Turn out that this is a blessing in disguise. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. beautiful *and I know the points and grammar is like from a terrible zombie apocalypse, well… deal with it.

“When you’re all alone by yourself, Do you like you?” – Try, Colbie Caillat

P/s : Don’t go all crazy promoting this and that after reading this.

Posted by on October 13, 2014 in Uncategorized


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