He called me UGLY.

Who set the rules?

FULL OF BEAUTY.🫶🏾🌹

I went MISSING IN ACTION, again. My fault. I had a lot of things clouding my mind; my project defense inclusive. I would rather not put the blame totally on my project defense. I actually didn't know what to write. I was stuck, and I kept moving in a circle that kept bringing me back to the very point where I started off. I was clueless. Now, you're reading this because I used my hack again. The hack? Starting with writing about my cluelessness on what to write. Works!

So, is this newsletter about my cluelessness? No. It's more about my ugliness.

I didn't know what my face ACTUALLY looked like till Junior Secondary School two. Some of my seniors gave me compliments and those compliments made me to start paying attention to how I looked. I applied extra lip gloss, used IMAN and walked with confidence.

No, I didn't initially see myself as ugly. I just didn't see the beauty the way people saw it. I didn't care.

I grew more beautiful as I got older; charming. My Dad and Mum did a fantastic collaboration. I know this.😌🫶🏾 I looked into the mirror every day with satisfaction and awe. Everything was created to perfection. I didn't want to change anything about my face until someone pointed out what was meant to be an imperfection. No, what he thought was imperfection.

“What are these black things on your face? They are making your face ugly. Can't they be removed?”, he kept his eyes on my face like he wanted to uproot them.

I took my phone and looked at my face like I didn't know what he was talking about. “I don't want to remove them”, I felt bad, but I quickly put a blanket over my feelings. “Leave them for me like that”.

“Shey you know that some men don't find it attractive?”

“That's their business”, I felt my heart boil. I quickly brushed it off but little did I know that my mind was about to be occupied by the thoughts of my face being littered with tiny imperfections.

I got home and I looked at my mum. Beautiful Woman with the same tiny imperfections. I realized that I've not really noticed them until I got intentional about seeing them.

Are they really imperfections? Are they actually unattractive? Why am I bothered? Who put the standards? Who said so?

“You are beautiful, mummy. Imaka", I smiled at her wildly. That was all I needed. My God is beautiful and my Mum is. Then, you should see my dad and my siblings!

So what then disqualifies me? Tiny black moles? Oh, please try again!

• My mission here is simple. To tell you that, You are BEAUTYFULL! Spelling? Intentional. You are full of beauty. There is no standard.

People might ridicule your height and you will feel bad. That doesn't mean something is wrong with you.

You might not have straight legs. It is okay, it's not the standard.

Your tummy might be big like mine, but that's okay too.

Your hair line might be receding, and you might not fit into the standard of spec.

You might be slim with no built muscle to attest for your masculinity.

You might be plus size, and you feel ashamed to do what every other person is doing.

You might hate how your legs knock at the knees.

Your toes might not be flawless.

The list goes on and on.

You might not meet up with the false standards of beauty. It's a rat race.

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! Yes, you! You who laugh at compliments and wave them aside. You are full of beauty.

FULL OF BEAUTY.🫶🏾🌹

That's Isidinma. I call her, Onye odinaka.🫶🏾🌹 I'm sure she will not see this one coming.😂 One beautiful talented woman I met on substack. I saw the picture and loved it. Made me realize how much time God invested in creation. Such a beautiful woman!💜

I'm mesmerized.😂

I'll draw the curtains here and allow you tell me if there's something you disliked about your body or something you still dislike and want to change or if you've overcome it.

Like me now, this tummy don't want to go down.😭 Is it because I take the slim tea with doughnut?😂

Ah.

Till I write you again,

Hosanna.💜