I like the description of this piece.
I was going to add more to the sentence but I decided to leave it at that and have people really ponder what it means.
My first term I came up with is society winners. What do I mean by society winners? I'll start off with just an explanation. A "society winner" is someone who is all around physically attractive. They are pleasing to the eye. They dress nice, their faces are statuesque, their bodies are slim or muscular. Their phones attached to their hands are the newest addition. If you get past eye contact and greeting them, you find out they abbreviate everything and literally anything. They're surrounded by people, a lot of the times you can almost see the ringlet of light around them. It's not a bad thing to be a society winner. It's not bad to have a lot of people find you attractive.
What bothers me is that some people take advantage of being one. Those are the bad batch people, and they get away with it because they're pretty. And when I say pretty, I don't apply a gender to it.
Now these bad batch people can't make friends with other people if they're not society winners. They're invested in getting intoxicated by other people like them. Or maybe substances, but yet again that's another predicament.
These people don't have manners. These people don't care about depth, about being sad or frustrated or intimate minus the physical stuff. They bulldoze social media and destroy the numbers of followers or friends on various platforms, increasing them until the likes or hearts or views are in the double digits. And believe me, it's okay to carry a platform and have a lot of attention to pages, but these guys aren't grateful.
I have a lump in my throat for these people. The population of them isn't overwhelming, but the few that there are I can't get over.
They follow my insecurities, they resurface them and make me feel like I am not good enough to be a part of their lives. It's terrible, because I don't think I'm a priority, but still I want to have the ability to branch out. I want to meet them and make them smile and allow myself to not cower because of how physically fortunate they are. I am not envious, but there is still negativity flooding my brain with these people.
My insecurities resurfaced the other day. And I have every day doubts, but these ones made me angry. I'm currently learning about cells, and types of cells in my Human Biology class, and how some are hydrophilic (they love water) or hydrophobic (they hate water) and I can't help thinking that my arbitrary insecurities are hydrophilic. The water is the toxicity of these people, and when it appears, my insecurities absorb the toxicity and they swell and suffocate. They make me stand in the shower wondering whether or not I should get out. Because the only water and only feelings that don't burn are the independent ones I have when that water is running down my skin, and pooling at my feet.
I recently met this person. They had the kindest eyes, and the most sculptured body, and the right wardrobe and phone. They had the most fitting haircut, the nicest smile and facial hair and walked the perfect way. They were nice for a few days, and my friends and I lightened whenever he greeted me, or I greeted him. I became intrigued, I thought he was the best society winner. I got his Snapchat the first time I talked to him, and I was kind of panicked because my phone had broke and I couldn't introduce the me I put on there to the him that he put on there. I couldn't see whether or not he was the same person behind the phone screen, and standing a few feet from me, or sitting across from me at a table in the college cafe.
Spoil alert: He wasn't.
He instantly snapped my beautiful friends, they were solely interested in having him and I be friends because I had to prove that I can make a friend with a hot guy. That maybe, him and I could become us, and I could prove to people that I don't have to be objectified, or a society winner to be his girl. Now, that was the tiniest part of the plan; it had no effect on how rejected I feel.
He never replied to me. And now, I don't say hi in the hallways, on the basketball court, in the gym. I don't want to, the last thing I want is to come across as desperate.
There's a deeper reason why I feel rejected. I feel rejected because my mind has convinced myself that he thought I needed him, or wanted him so badly. He thought I was weird, and alienated me and made me feel like an outsider.
This bothers me so much because I will live every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year for the rest of my life without my mom. Without the one person that I needed.
So to the people who deliberately reject my friendship with me in my past, in my present, and in my future: don't you dare think for a second that I need you in my life. It's beyond insulting. Also, thanks for being my further motivation to talk to people even though I'm insanely shy.
My message to my other people, to my society winners who truly are winning, and who have more to them then their amazing looks: The minute someone tells you you got an achievement of yours because of your looks, leave them. Be someone else's anchor, you are not inferior just because you will receive thousands of compliments in your lifetime.
To my people who aren't society winners, to the people with depth or unique audiences of people who are attracted to you, you're winning too. If the world didn't have a variety of people, it would be so freaking boring. I couldn't imagine it.
Something that all of us need to remember: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." -Eleanor Roosevelt
[https://www.picturesboss.com/pictures/grayson-mirror-selfy-pretty-06.html This is Grayson Dolan. He has a twin named Ethan. They are famous for many things now, but what boosted their popularity was their looks. Still I focus on who they are, how much their mental health means to them, how hard they've worked to live in a world that loves them and hates them at the same time. They've had their personal struggles, and have made them known, and it is to that where I still adore them. I wanted a mirror selfie of Grayson's-- one in particular but I couldn't find it-- because he recognized how good he looks and embraced it. And that is definitely not something I'm against. Confidence is key, but cockiness is the death of me.]