When I arrived home from school as a teen, I had an interesting routine. Raid my Mother’s refrigerator, and wait for all of the trashy talk shows to come on. My favorite was the “Maury Povich” show. My young mind could not comprehend how a woman could “forget” a man that she had sexual intercourse with, let alone how could a woman exhibit such a skill multitasking with her body? But , that is another subject. I loved when Maury Povich would have guest on his show that were teased relentlessly for their outer appearance during their adolescent years, but have now grown into physically attractive adults. Some of these women looked surgically enhanced to me, but I would wonder, “Will I ever be pretty?” All children go through some kind of conflict with their classmates, but I can remember up until my Senior year, where certain females will look at me and call me ugly. Or whisper because my hair was not as straight as theirs. I never dated in high school, and regardless of what some of my male peers say now, none of them had the desire to date me. I was intelligent, and I knew not to throw away my innocence to just impress some teenage boy. So, let’s fast forward a good ten years now. I see people from my past gawk and say “they cannot believe” how beautiful I have become. As if it were some impossibility for me to be attractive as well. Guys that would walk right by me in my high school, now regale me with tales of how much they liked me, but did not know how to express the emotion. I remember those who loved me when I was invisible. When I would cry myself to sleep because so many people had told me how unattractive I was. I know to only put value in the beauty of my heart. My heart keeps me going. And ultimately, I will be judged by the contents of my heart. So, yes, I am enjoying being “a pretty girl” now, but inwardly, I am still that geeky little girl trying to find her way. To those who saw my inner beauty when no one else did, thank you for seeing me when I was invisible.