Hurtful comment, never forgotten

Specky four eyes for me also.

Patch over one eye, the round blue clinic glasses.

Red hair so obviously Ginger nut/oh has your mum left you out in the rain and gone rusty!

30+ years ago, we were sitting in choir practice when a fellow soprano turned apropos of nothing much and said to me "haven't you got thick wrists"? Looked at them, couldn't see much wrong, but this has stayed since that time. Also hurtful.

Blossoming

He had an ugly mind. Feet are for carrying us about, they don’t need to be pretty.

Couldn't have put it better.......

Esmay yes this is the damage that happens when no one dare challenge a parent.
I suppose if you happened to be an only child it has all the more impact. Children can’t be expected to “logic” things out and will just accept their home experience as normal.

It becomes imbedded at a deep level, even when you endeavour to live an absolute diametrically opposite life.

Just imagine if the situation were reversed and on hearing your key in the door “he” switched off eg football (insert appropriate here) 😊

I think that people don't realise the incredible damage that they do .
Their comments can really haunt you .
My mother was hypercritical and I think prepared me to accept the non stop criticism when I received on a daily basis from the only man that I've ever loved .
I'm constantly reminded of them .
Yesterday I enjoyed an old black and white film and recalled that it was yet
another thing which infuriated him .
I was so intimidated by him that I began to watch them if alone and would switch off if I heard his key in the lock .

I found the insults/criticisms that children inflict on each other when at school less of an issue than what teachers and family members said because they were adults.

They still have the power to hurt (if we allow) and occasionally when unbidden one of these instances will pop up in my thoughts and make me so angry even things said decades ago by people who are no longer living.

I think this must be a universal trait in humans but it serves no useful purpose to dwell on these negative experiences but I try now wherever possible to give “as good as I get there and then”and I don’t let it fester these days but only if it is something that is very important to me, instead of storing up resentment that eats up all the joyfulness from within.
“I am here for a good time, not a long time” is my philosophy.

With me it’s my weight. My maiden name was Ray and a boy at school shouted ‘fat Ray gets in the way’ he also called me Belle Tent (again went with my name) I lost all my chubbiness as a child but never forgot this and always felt fat - even as a size 10. (I feel fat now, but that’s because I am 🤣)

I have altered the saying Sticks and Stones etc
My saying is
Sticks and stones may break your bones, they will mend!
Names hurt for ever!

My father always and repeatedly told me I was neither useful nor ornamental. It still hurts 50 years later.

If ugly feet is all that idiot has to worry about then he must be exceedingly boring and dull and have an equally exceedingly boring and dull life! What a moron!

I've got flat feet and fallen arches, big toe on the right foot - the nail is permanently huge, off colour and difficult to cut because of a wheelchair that was pushed over it with someone in it 30 odd years ago, I've never seen a foot specialist about it has I hate having my feel touched! In-growing toenails, general weird stuff and couldn't care a hoot what my feet look like as long as their clean and tidy and the nails are cut!

I've had all kinds of nasty remarks tossed at me over the years, professionally and personally by those who have no life and no intelligence. I'm female, aged 60 and 6'2 and slim but well built and when I was 15 I was 5'10 and skinny and I've always been plain, never pretty or beautiful, one of the male ''teachers'' at school said ''you'll never get a bloke with your looks''. I snapped back that I wouldn't want one, I'd never lower myself to date/marry a bloke!'' The expression on his face, which was spotty and full of blackheads, was hilarious! I never did marry/date and never had kids, all by choice!

Just noticed the date of the OP! I expect Shinamae’s shoes are worn out now!

My dear Granny once told me that I was lucky I had one good leg. She wouldn't tell me which one though!

Big Louis
Snap, my little sister was gorgeous, I overheard a woman say
‘Isn’t that little ** girl lovely, what a shame her sisters are so plain’.
I didn’t cry, I was quite grown up about 13/14 at the time. I just gave her a Paddington stare every time I saw her. She probably thought I had other problems too!
I chose beauty as a career. There are more of us plain Jane’s around than absolute beauties and so we are in good company.

Podiatrists always comment that I have very good feet 'for my age' and I attribute this to never having worn stiletto heels and pointed toes in my 20s when I lived in a tropical country, wearing mainly flip-flops bought in the bazaar or Scholls sandals which I once used as therapy following a badly sprained ankle. After my 20s, life was, for some time, pram pushing and chasing small children, necessitating 'sensible' footwear. When the weather is warm, I still relish the opportunity to get my feet into sandals, although my serviceable feet are no longer 'pretty' - but what would you expect from 84-year-old 'trotters'?

My older brothers used to tell me ‘you have lucky legs, lucky they don’t break’. I was skinny, nobbly kneed and hair that was a very bright ginger. Mum used to say ‘it’s good for the character’. I think she was probably right as later in life I just used to laugh at any derogative comments , and still do.

Both reported

Oh dear Shinamae. That's not a very nice thing to say to a young girl of 15.

Tbh my dad was extremely disappointed in me. He wanted a son but got me and then when he realised I had a birthmark he was appalled. I wasn't perfect. He found my face distasteful. He was a very shallow and vain man, always a fool for a pretty face.

My younger sister was the family beauty and he idolised her, he thought I was ugly and so had little time for me.

Hey ho.....I had the last laugh. My late husband adored me and thought I was beautiful. He didn't even notice my birthmark until we had been dating for several months. One day it was a bit red and angry and he just said "oh have you scratched your face". Bless him, he was so besotted he just didn't see it.

Well....they say love is blind.....?

Biglouis. I am 70 now, so yes I couldn't care less about whether or not people consider me attractive. However, I still like to dress up, wear make up etc. I do it for me, it makes me feel good.

I agree with Germansheperdsmum......I think we who were considered plain Janes when we were young often "grow into our looks" as we get older.

Like fine wines, we often get better with age. ?

You all seem to have lovely Nanas, mine on the other hand not so great, I remember we had a row when I was about 15 and she told me that I was not wanted and I was an accident and actually I found out later that mum was pregnant with me when she got married so it was a sort of shotgun wedding I suppose….. and my father much later on in my life actually told me where I was conceived!!!

Yes my grandmother was a very wise woman.

She told me that I was a lot more intelligent than my sister.

"Yes your sister is pretty but thats all she has. One day her looks will fade but you will always have your brains."

When you get to my age (76) you no longer care much about looks!

I grew up knowing my mother thought me very plain and stupid too. I had straight hair and knock knees and wore glasses from age 3. At 10 I grew tubby.
Looking back at photographs I see someone very ordinary, neither beautiful nor ugly and quite clever. Knowing that I could never reach my mother’s expectations cast a dark shade over my whole life.

Meant to say.......those cruel jibes never really leave you do they and they can seriously dent your confidence. But thankfully, for some reason I was never bullied or teased by my class mates or peers.

I don't know why but it was always adults who said the cruel things. I never did understand that. You would think it would be children being cruel, that the adults would know better and be kinder.

shinamae......I think you feet look just fine. ❤️

Big Louis. ...your grandmother was a very wise and clever woman.

Like you I was a very plain child, tall, lanky, skinny, thin whispy hair. Worse still I was born with a nasty birthmark on my face. Some of the comments I received as a child were beyond hurtful, but even worse to contend with were the unguarded looks of shock and pity I noticed in people's eyes when they first met me. Needless to say I hated my appearance and had no confidence.

A kindly aunt noticed my struggles and without saying a word about my appearance she taught me this little rhyme .....

"A little bit of powder and a little bit of paint
Can make a thing seem what it aint"

She didn't have a birthmark but she was deemed too tall and rather plain. And yet, she always looked like a million dollars, beautifully dressed, bejewelled and full make up. She was 96 when she died and she still looked wonderful.

She loved the old Hollywood movie stars and had a collection of movie magazines which she let me look at. And like your grandmother she pointed out that many of those stars weren't actually beautiful or even pretty. But what they had was glamour. The word "glamour" itself apparently comes from "glamere" which is an old mediaeval word meaning magic or spell.

So I followed my aunts example and learned how to make the best of a bad job. I learned how to deflect attention away from my birthmark, I learned how to dress well, apply make up. Etc.

Then when puberty hit when I was 14 the "equipment" arrived...? and the ugly duckling finally turned into a swan. I was tall, slender, long legs, generous boobs, and nice thick glossy hair. The real bonus was that the birthmark began to fade so that with the right make up it was much less noticeable.

Oddly enough I do have quite pretty feet, even though I'm now 70 - straight toes, no bunions. I think largely thanks to my mum insisting I wear the most awful "sensible shoes" when I was young. I hated them and always wanted pretty shoes but she did me a favour.

Unfortunately I do now have painful feet at times thanks to collapsed arches and arthritis. So it's back to comfy sensible shoes, my high heel days are sadly over.

As a postscript .....the birthmark became cancerous when I was 56 and had to be surgically removed. I was very nervous but the surgeon did an amazing job and all I'm left with is a faint white scar which no one ever notices, even without make up.

All's well that ends well. ?.

Rejection not reflection

I used to take pack lunch to school whilst my regular friends had cooked dinners. It was my first term. I was sat with a group of girls eating lunch when the two from my class, I remember their names to this day, said they didn’t want me to sit on their table anymore and to go elsewhere. Three other girls invited me to their table but I always felt I was there on sufferance. The reflection has always stayed with me.