Late night thoughts hitting hard tonight.
I was looking at myself in the mirror just now after taking a shower and I couldn’t even stand it. Bright yellow-gold bleached hair, uneven ugly fringe hanging over my forehead like some budget wannabe who failed halfway, and a double chin staring right back at me.
For the longest time, whenever people gave me weird side-eyes on the MRT or when I walked through Orchard, I tried to convince myself: “Yeah, it’s fine, I’m just expressing my individual style. I’m edgy. I don’t care what Singapore society thinks.”
But who am I trying to kid?
The brutal reality hit me today: I’m fat, I’m ugly, and my face is completely unblessed by genetics. Deep down, I knew that if I looked normal—with standard black hair and a neat short cut—I would just be completely invisible. Or worse, just another background NPC that people scroll past in real life without a second glance.
So what did I do? I went to a salon, dropped $150 to bleach my hair into this loud, blinding gold color, and cut this ridiculous fringe thinking it would give me “personality.”
The truth is, I just wanted people to look at me. Even if they are looking at me thinking “wah severe eye pollution,” at least they are looking. Bad attention is still attention, right? It’s like my brain decided that if I can’t be attractive, I might as well be loud so I don’t feel completely non-existent in this city.
Every day walking around, seeing all those clean-cut, fit guys and pretty girls living their best lives, I feel like a walking joke. My golden hair is basically a neon sign screaming “PLEASE NOTICE ME, I HAVE ZERO SELF-CONFIDENCE.” The irony is that the moment someone actually glances my way on the train, I instantly get anxious, look down at my phone, and pretend to swipe TikTok.
I’m just so tired of performing this stupid circus act for myself.