Square-Face

I grew-up in a world where oval faces, narrow noses and white skin were considered beautiful. Being colonized by Spaniards for centuries, I can understand why we had this kind of mentality for afterall they were considered as the ruling kind while we were the insignificant indios. I for one, felt like an outsider on my own turf. My peers would often make fun of me because of my seemingly odd square face. They'd call me names while I tried to appear unaffected, never giving-in to their infantile gestures. But deep within my bandaged heart, I was truly hurt and I secretly asked myself "what's wrong with me?"

From then on, I began to develop insecurites. I would never sport a pony-tail or even have my hair cut very short. Doing so would mean exposing my true identity, my protruding jaws to be exact. I remember looking at myself in the mirror while cupping my jaws with my hands, seeing a better person before me. I surmised that if I had an oval face, things would be perfect. Then came my puberty, I started having pimples and these weren't any ordinary infiltrators. These were monster zits, the ones that would take months to cure and leave indelible marks, as if ranting "been here!"As a thorn adolescent, things could not get any worst for me. I felt shattered and depressed and just plain UGLY.

I knew that God was sending me a message through this unending turmoil but I was too busy complaining about other things. He then intervened by giving me an oppurtunity to visit the indigenous Aetas of Porac, Pampangga. I noticed how they were so engrossed in me. I remember even one of them saying "you're so beautiful." I could not believe it for if there's any adjective that I would use to describe myself it was far from being beautiful.  They were such simple people, they didn't even have any electricity in their village. They lived in little huts where the floors were flat sand.  Instead of hamburgers and fries, they had fishes and bananas. I cringed upon seeing their condition. Worst was when I saw how happy and content they were.

I was enlightened through that experience and from then on, I knew I had no right to complain. I spent my years focusing on what I didn't have rather than what I did have. I knew that God has endowed me with a lot of gifts and I should start valuing them. The Aetas were living in such ascetism and yet they did not complain, instead they thanked God for the simple reason of living. I may have a better lifestyle than them but what I saw in them was something more than what I had. They were better disciples of God.

Right now, I admit that I loose track at times but I make sure to bare in mind the Aetas and try to be more like them. I stopped doing the cupping-of-the-jaws routine for right about now when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a refurbished soul. Not my square face (which I have grown to love by the way) or my flat nose ( I have outgrown the pimple stage) but a person made in the likeness of God. Amen! ;D