Personal Narrative: Barbie's Hair

Gazing into the mirror, I stood and gave myself my own seal of disapproval. In a way, I began to tattoo myself with seemingly permanent labels. It all sprouted very subtly, this disapproval. My six-year-old self did not realize striving to be as beautiful as my Barbie would bring such adversity.
My Barbie possessed a captivating beauty. Everything about her was perfect. For some reason, of which I am still not aware, it was impossible for me to glance at my Barbie without having the urge to compare myself to her. It was not enough for me to simply admire her shining golden locks that gently cascaded down her back. After examining my Barbie’s hair, I felt compelled to follow up by comparing it to my own short, choppy brown hair. The comparison did not end with her hair. It continued with every feature of her lean frame,
Initially, the insecurity only brought out more of the negative side in me. As a child, my insecurity made me feisty. I was so unsure of myself that seeing other people who were confident made me frustrated and feel even more alone.
In my preteen years, my insecurity came out in a few different forms. The main way I noticed my insecurity affect me was my desire to constantly be alone. No one understood me, so I just wanted to be alone with myself. That idea in itself did not make sense either. If I was that insecure then it is quite evident that I too, did not understand myself. The simple pursuit of being like Barbie was never supposed to be this complicated.
Although my insecurity was certainly not something positive, there have been good things that have sprang out of it. Having been in a place where I could not have been more displeased with myself helped me to better understand beauty when I finally did come around to loving myself. Experiencing what it is like to esencially hate who I was gave me a deeper appreciation of being able to have confidence in who I