Kill with Kindness, Kill with Confidence

“You have eyes that smile, did you know that?”

Her eyes were gleefully jumping back and forth between mine, as if snapping a photo with each leap to cherish in her memory.

The thing was, my smile was mirroring a duplicate reflection of love.

“Uhh, umm… Ha.”

I suck at taking compliments. I always feel like I have to give one in my immediate response, when really I’ve learned it’s best to just thank them kindly.

But, my words were translated oh so perfectly. Somehow, I knew she would do just so because she had that aura that shows through her smile and puts you at ease. This being said, I met her a mere sixty seconds prior to her compliment.

I knew exactly what she meant, but when people say something that takes me aback, I insist on asking them to explain, elaborate—I want to inquire.

She translated the expression on my face and responded, “Your eyes. They smile when your mouth does, but if you were to cover up your mouth, you could still tell you’re smiling.”

I digested this observation and decided it was the most magnificent compliment I had ever received.

Her eyes crinkled, each crow mark like the lines in a tree stump representing beautiful growth. Thin face, medium pigment, pixie-cut granola-colored hair. She was at least in her forties, possibly fifties. We were merely standing in the garage of a graduation party with my mom standing to my right, just leaving and ready to walk to our car. The lady had stopped us because she recognized my mom, but after a few sentences she turned her attention to me and granted me the fondest moment that lies with all memories incurred from fleeting moments spent with delightful strangers. I’ve had crazy, epic moments spent with strangers, but this remains my favorite because I sincerely felt like this woman encompassed love in her existence.

Before heading out, she said one last thing that concealed the doubts that were cautiously tiptoeing inside my head:

“It’s a good thing.”

            Too much precious time has been wasted in my life from flustering over comments that rude people make, most specifically the ones they say about me. It’s one thing for someone to say “You’re too loud,” which is a hit at my personality, but it’s another to call out my physical features—any girl’s one true weakness, if any. Some of these called-out features have blossomed into trademarks. Others, into constant self-doubts that have a way of hangin’ around like hooligans in an alleyway. But there's a lesson to be learned.

            In third grade while sitting in gym glass, the girl in front of me turned around, looked at my feet, and proceeded to put her hands on either end of my right foot as if tediously measuring it. She then lifted her hands up all the while shrinking the “measurement”, the same way people tend to do when comparing heights when their hand doesn’t go straight—and yelled to the whole class: “Oh my God! Her feet are so SMALL!”

            You’d think she grew up with a family of clowns.

            The joke is now on everyone in elementary school and middle school who commented on my small feet (which are only a 5½ at smallest) because let’s be honest, I rather have cute little feet than having to have custom-made shoes because my feet are so big—i.e. Paris Hilton. Or just in general, I rather have trouble finding a size 6 than being embarrassed of buying a size 11. For those of my sistas who do have bigger tootsies, I would never be so cheeky as to comment or ridicule them for such a trait. Not because I’m just that well-mannered, but because I don’t give a flying rat’s ass.

            For lack of better words: Embrace that shit. Flaunt it. If you’re a size 11 confident puta and the resurrected Shang Dynasty came charging at you to bind your feet, wave that middle finger like you’re excited to see them. (Unfamiliar with foot binding? Click here.)

            Example numero dos, condensed:

“Your bottom lip is too big, it’s weird,” – Every peer in my life pre-puberty.

“Your lips are amazing” – Guys, post-puberty.

This last one is for my friend Amanda and Miss Anonymous who once told me I had a weird butt and that I have no butt, respectively: Guys like it. Trust me. They are actually quite vocal about it. It’s tight and firm. Most of all, I like it.

Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to get that off my chest.

You see where I’m getting at? Confidence. You must have it. Even if it’s fake confidence, if you’re putting on a glorious act, it will scare off all the rude witches that try and bring you down, most commonly a direct result of their own insecurity. My most crucial advice is to never stoop to their level. Kill them with kindness—it scares them. It makes them think. It gives them a chance to grow, and a chance to save themselves.

My opening story is just to show that for every jackass running their ignorant mouth, there will be an angel to remind you of the little things that make you, you. So maybe my eyes disappear once my weird bottom lip goes all crescent moon crazy, but I love that about me and that someone else loves it too, even if it’s just one other person. Plus, I’d rather have that than apathetic eyes and a smile that screams “I’m unnatural.” I not only encourage, I demand you to do deliver with the same attitude. Strut those cankles, wave those double-jointed elbows, and use those beautiful lips, however kissable or straight-edged, to make a promise to yourself that a sweet and fluffy bunny-rabbit once said:

“If you can't say something nice... don't say nothing at all.”

Word.

Here are some of my favorite pictures that not only show my smiling eyes that the woman referred to, but those around me seem to also have eyes that smile... oh and one picture of my proud lil' booty (the exact picture that evoked a girl to tell me I had none):

My roommate freshman year who has her own fashion blog! http://fashionloveotherdrugs.blogspot.com/

Miss Rachel, how I adore her so. 

Meet my non-biological mother and father / best friends

It was love at first site... Literally, this pic is the first time we met.

Proud of this booty. Thank you high school cheerleading.

(One of my most epic dance moments came from dancing to Ms. New Booty)

Relay For Life. I can honestly saw I love this picture.

Shyla never ceased to make me smile. Typically, laugh so hard I turned to jello on the sidelines and had to run to the nearest Port-A-Potty.

Throwback! The era of the braces. Summer bonfire with my girl Breann.

The one and only, "Daddy-O."

See where I get the eyes from?

Jay. Jay Jay Jay makes me smile, that's for sure.

Straight up cheezin'. (Aren't guy bear hugs the best?)

This kid is somethin else.

Good ole days working at 50's Grill, the one and only. Nothing makes me happier than a homemade malt! (Banana flavored, of course.)

Judy, who self-labeled herself my "favorite Asian." How I miss her!

Self-Portrait. 

Photo Cred to Ellie, one of my three dorm roommates from freshman year.