Maybe You're Like Me: Paulita Hernandez
Hey you! I hope this letter finds you and perhaps moves something so deep inside of you that it redefines you. My prayer is that by daring to share a piece of my soul with you, you dare to take on life with a newfound perspective. My prayer is that you realize that not only are you not alone, but there is no need to hide who you are, my dear. My entire life, I have defined my outward appearance by one word, and one word alone: ugly. Now before you make any assumptions and/or decide to quit reading this piece, hang with me until you’ve reached a conclusion.
I have always dealt with not being pretty in my own way. I did everything I could do to boost my self-esteem as others had advised me to. It never really worked, so I did the opposite and thought maybe this is how I help myself out. Meaning, I made jokes about my appearance that my friends scolded me for, and in turn, was forced to chant your typical positivity mantra. Turns out that never worked for me either.
The older I became, the uglier I felt I was becoming. Sure, I was a little heavy, and kids made fun of my weight occasionally in middle school and even in high school, but this problem was not about the extra pounds. It was much deeper than that. I made it to college and thought, “Hey, maybe this is where things will change for me; maybe this is where something within me will shift.” This problem was an automatic switch. Boy, was I wrong! During my freshman year there, a group was talking about types of dateable people. From looks to personality, to the style you name it. Well, one of the guys in this circle looked at me for what felt like an eternity and said, “Yeah, I mean a guy would even date you...I guess.” I stood there stunned, without uttering another word, but neither he nor anyone else noticed the conversation moved right along; as if words had no meaning.
I wish I could tell you that I forgot his words. I wish I could tell you that I did not cry myself to sleep that night. Alas, that is not how my story went. I wish I could tell you that it was only his words that got under my skin that night, but they weren’t just his words. Phrases like that come and go, and at the time, I barely knew the guy, but it was what those particular words resurfaced for me. It was every memory of being called ugly by strangers, by loved ones, by friends, and by myself that came flooding back to me. Words like that are never easily forgotten. See, other instances occurred as they always do in life, but I survived them all. In my third year of college, I even lost over 40 pounds, and I thought that would help, and though it did a little, one thing I learned I could never change was my face. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t find ways to love it; love the reflection that stared back at me.
I hated myself.
I was hopeless. I was broken. I was lost, and I was becoming my own demise. I then realized I had hated myself for far too long. This may sound cliché, but it doesn’t lose its truth, I did not know how to love me until I learned God’s love for me. That day, that day was the day I looked, I mean really looked into a mirror. I stared at myself examining each of my features: my crooked stained teeth, my frizzy hair, my acne covered face, and all. I stared and stared until I had the courage to look myself in the eyes, and that that was the moment that changed me from a state of existence to a state of living- of feeling.
That moment was when I began to shed a few tears with what I saw. Having nowhere else to go, to run or to hide, without losing eye contact, I started speaking to God, and He entered onto the scene. In all of my glorious tattered and shattered humanity, you know what He did? He didn’t turn away from me. He didn’t run from me. He didn’t hide from me. He took me in His arms, wrapped me up in His embrace, and poured His love upon every inch of my being. Never had I ever felt more seen or more beautiful until the day I accepted Him calling me His. He called me His; His beloved; His daughter. He called me beautiful. The day I accepted that His love covered all of me, from my ugliest scars to my most vulnerable flaws; I was no longer defined with words that the world uses so loosely, but I was now redefined by God’s definitive word over my life. He saw me for who I was, and He redefined me to myself. The world has no say, and the lies have no say. Just like he told me, He is telling you that you never belonged to the world, you have always belonged to Him, and He thinks you are to die for. Know this; this is no longer a reason I cry myself to sleep. I pray you learn this too. ‘Cause honey; God did not mess up when He created you. You are His treasure, priceless and beautiful.
