Confidence is Beautiful

A few days ago my friends and I went to Gradball - we got dressed up and went out to this end of year event because we've finally finished university (YAY!). We had a great time and took tons of pictures. 

Today I decided to upload one of those to my Facebook as my profile picture; this one to be exact:

In this photo, I feel confident. I love my smile, I love the fact that I have a tan (a rare occurrence), I like my hair, my makeup, I like everything about this picture. 

What I didn't expect was to upload it to Facebook and get comments about it being 'too revealing'. Albeit most of these comments were from family but to me that didn't make it any better. 

Yes, this is not the kind of photo I would normally take or post on social media but, whether that is the case or not, what is to say that I shouldn't when I feel hella good in it? 

There was a comment that said I needed to put more clothes on, another that said it was a bit revealing and one that said I should put my boobs away. First of all, there is barely any boob on show in my opinion, just skin, and why can't I post a picture where god forbid there's some kind of skin showing in it anyway, when it's okay for a man to post a picture of himself topless? Or it's okay for another girl to post a picture of herself in a bikini? Are neither of those revealing? Because I rarely see comments on those photos telling them so.

Personally when I see pictures of other people, like the one I took, or even just pictures where someone's wearing a beautiful dress or looking very dapper in their suit, I tend to look and think 'wow, they look amazing'. Not once have I ever considered telling them they have too much skin on show.

I'm a self conscious person at the best of times, so the fact that I looked at this picture and thought that I looked confident and happy in it made me happy, but then comments telling me to 'put it away' made me question that, leaving me feeling less than happy about the photo in the end. I debated taking it down and just changing it back to my old picture (where I'm wearing a jumper so there can be no arguments about revealing too much there - although if I was to have had that picture taken standing up I was wearing a skirt, so I guess that outfit would probably be too revealing as well), but then I came to the conclusion that why should I?

Not nearly enough people in this world have enough confidence, never mind body confidence and, I'm not going to lie, it's not something I have a lot of either, but if I feel good in this picture then I shouldn't let a few comments change my mind about that.

I know that none of the comments made were meant to make me feel less confident or less happy with myself but that doesn't change the fact that they did. They made me question myself. It may not be the kind of picture I would normally post but that doesn't mean I shouldn't post it. Since when did showing off some skin become such a taboo thing in the 21st century? I've seen plenty of celebrities online and in magazines wearing outfits that are a lot more revealing than a bit of my chest so surely I cannot be seen as a bad influence to any of the young people in my family that might see this photo - surely, if anything, it should be a good thing for them to see someone looking confident and happy with themselves.

So many people of all ages, but especially younger people, have problems with their self-esteem because of celebrities and their friends at school. They need to know that it's okay to be happy with yourself. One young girl in my family has just got Facebook, she's only eleven but she pouts in nearly every photo and everybody is always telling her she doesn't need to pout to be beautiful but she always replies saying yes she does. Is that how we want such a young generation to think? That they have to be like everyone else and think they have to act a certain way to be beautiful? They don't. Everyone is beautiful when they're themselves.

Confidence is beautiful.

Katie x

Story Time... Bite 2!

Hello!

So, a couple of months ago now, I posted a short story that I'd written. I was terrified. It was the first one I'd ever publicly posted and I didn't know what people would think about it, or if anyone would even like it and read it. 

It actually turned out to be quite a popular post (I was soooo happy with how it was received that I later posted a different story (HERE) if you want to check that one out, too). Back to the first story though; there was even one lovely man who commented telling me he'd love to read more of it at some point.

I had written more to it then but I wasn't happy enough with what I had to post it on the interweb for everyone to read. However, after a lot of editing, and basically just re-writing it actually, I think I'm happy with this little section, so I thought I'd post it on here!

Once again, I'm completely open to feedback and criticism - it's the only way I can ever improve!

So to Tim, who commented on not only the first part of this story, but the first story I'd ever posted for anyone and everyone to read, thank you so much. You have no idea how much that one little comment meant to me.

Here is part two of the story.

(If you didn't read the first part then just click HERE, otherwise I think you might struggle to make sense of this post and you're probably just wondering what I'm cracking on about!)

Bang, Bang - Part 2

“Don’t. Move.” The figure whispered.

Rose stood stiller than the statue in the town centre; the one that she sat under eating her lunch every day. Mundane memories like that seemed pointless now. She stayed in the exact position she had found him in. She was struggling to take breathes when necessary and the fear in her eyes couldn't be mistaken.

“I’m really sorry.” The figure whispered.

She was still facing him, her eyes staring into his. Rose could see the fear from her eyes mirrored in his. He was scared too. How can the one holding the killing device be the one that's scared? She thought.

“Please don’t move.” He whispered, again.

She wanted to nod. But she didn’t want to go against his commands. She didn't want to move. 

She stood still. 

Completely unmoving. 

Her heart pounding in her chest – she could feel it in her head. In her feet. She could feel her hearbeat everywhere. 

She continued to stay in the same position he had told her to; staring at his face. His scared face.

The sound of the trigger being pulled rang throughout the shop and Rose collapsed on the floor.

She stayed there for several minutes. Motionless. She had moved, though. She hadn't meant to. She'd moved. 

Rose mentally assessed her body, trying to focus on any points of pain. None made themselves obvious. She wondered if this meant she was already dead. She tried to remove herself from the darkness that was surrounding her. A pale figure was standing in her line of view, though. Her whole body jolted back, hitting a large shelf of tins, several of them falling around her. 

Great. Those can't be sold now. The boss is not going to be happy about that. She mentally chastised herself - she was in a do or die situation and she was thinking about some dented tins of peas!

She sat there, her body shaking, staring at the pale figure but all he did was continue to watch her. His deep, midnight blue eyes scared and… pleading?

He closed his eyes, squeezing them, like he was trying to crush images and memories with them. She took the moment to try and observe him. His pale skin made him look like he'd been hiding from the sun for his whole life. It was the first time that she had taken him in properly, his dark hooded jacket hid most of his face but there were still a few black strands of hair that managed to peek out. His head was bowed and his eyes still shut. Rose made a further assessment of him. His shoulders seemed broad but she couldn't see much underneath the baggy hoody. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes; they were more prominent thanks to his pale skin. He couldn't be any older than herself... Mid-twenties, maybe?

Rose tore her eyes away from him, looking to her right. The cash desk draw still sat wide open. She wondered why he was still here if he’d taken the cash. Why? Part of her hoped someone had heard the single gunfire bang as they were walking past the little shop . She knew it wasn't likely. Not many people randomly walked past the remote, village shop.

She averted her eyes to the right instead, her mind still swirling with “why’s”.

A growing pool of red covered the cream-tiled floor.

The gunshot hadn't been a mistake.

A whimper escaped her body, ruining her vow of silence.

A hand came out to touch her shoulder and she flinched. It jumped back to its owner’s side.

“I’m sorry.”

Rose finally looked at him. Her eyes meeting his. Her stare was that cold that he was the one to flinch next.

“I’m sorry.”

She was starting to wonder if those were the only words he knew.

The fear she had felt was being overtaken by anger; she quickly crawled to her boss’s side. Her hands fluttered around his wrist. She was once taught how to look for a pulse but she couldn't remember where the best place was to check for it.

She pressed her forefinger into his inner wrist, praying for something. Hoping.

“He’s already dead.” The voice was closer behind her than she had thought and she jumped again. “I made sure it was instant. He didn't suffer. It was quick. The bullet went straight through his heart. He didn't suffer.” The last three words were no more than an airy whisper so much so that Rose wasn’t sure whether she had heard it or imagined it.

“You murdered him.” Apparently from anger came bravery. Or stupidity. Rose couldn’t decide which.

“Please don’t say that.”

She turned to look up at him, only to find he was knelt down; at the same level she was.

“You murdered him.” She repeated. Her tone colder than the snow that crunched outside.

“Don’t say that!” He shouted and swiftly stood, turning his back to her.

Rose had found her answer. It was definitely stupidity. Her fear came back in full swing; her anger melting quicker than the snow would when the mid-day sun shone tomorrow.