I Love Me!

Today's blog is dedicated to Aricelli.

She's a girl I never met, but I heard of her once many years ago (in 1999) and am still haunted by her memory to this day.

My friend Julia told me about her. Julia was Aricelli's roommate. Apparently, Aricelli was a narcissist par excellence. She had pictures of herself all over the dorm room walls and around her mirror, she decorated with mini-posters that said, "You're the best" or "Hottest Chick in the World" or whatever. (I may be exaggerating but not by much, believe me).

Julia said that every morning, Aricelli would wake up, kiss her image in the mirror and say, "You are so beautiful!" and other congratulatory adulations. And the strangest thing was, according to Julia, that Aricelli was not at all what our culture would deem "beautiful." She had jelly rolls, splotchy skin, and was only about 5 feet tall.

I have mixed feelings about Aricelli and her Monster Truck-sized self-esteem. On the one hand, she's like my hero! I wish I could be so full of myself so I would never have to feel inadequate all the time and in so many ways. Yet on the other hand, it's like, "Dude! Get a grip!"

But everytime I witness a beautiful girl express timidity about her looks, I think about Aricelli. How varied are the distributions of beauty and confidence. One often has almost nothing to do with the other.