I’m Not Josie Grossie Anymore


It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. – Jane Austen, Persuasion

Earlier this week, on a beautiful spring afternoon, I was driving home with all my windows down. While waiting to turn left, I heard snapping and whistling. I looked up to see a teenage boy in a nearby car waving at me. Perplexed, I figured he was waving at someone behind me. But as he turned and his car passed mine, he shouted through his open window, “Hey lady, looking good!” This kid was probably just being a goofball. But my knee-jerk reaction was telling: I instantly assumed that he meant the compliment sarcastically. Was my hair a mess? Was the sun shining on me weirdly? Was something caught in my teeth? My natural response to unfamiliar attention is a traumatic flashback to my ugly duckling days.

Looking back, I wasn’t the hideous preteen and teenager I believed myself to be at the time. I didn’t realize then what an awkward age that is for most people. I felt exceptionally unattractive, and was treated as such by a lot of my peers. In middle school, I had thick aviator glasses and out-of-control frizzy hair crowned by 80s puffy bangs and cut by the fine folks at Fantastic Sam’s. My overbite was so severe that it barely escaped corrective surgery. I had a nice figure, but was encouraged to hide it in too-large clothing, which I did until well into my 20s. I was constantly called names ranging from teasing (Bugs Bunny) to appalling (I’d rather not dredge them up). The boys in my neighborhood bullied me because I didn’t know enough to stay quiet and invisible. When I took walks around the block, they followed me on bikes and barked at me to remind me of my dog status. One terrible day, one of them spit on me on the school bus. Basically, if a guy tried to get my attention – at school, on my street, at the mall – something awful was guaranteed to follow. This continued for several years.

Eventually, I started high school, found my tribe, befriended guys who weren’t jerks, survived three years of braces, and rebelliously grew out my puffy bangs. (My mom disapproved, insisting that I would have a “flat head.”) I was too busy with activities to be fodder for the neighborhood boys. Everything improved. While classmates still took shots at me occasionally, it was no longer a daily experience. As I grew up, they had less and less to insult, and got less and less of a response.

I didn’t fully transform into a swan – or at least a respectable goose – until my late 20s. It took me that long to learn to love and make the most of what God gave me. Around my 30th birthday, I looked in the mirror and saw an objectively attractive woman. Not gorgeous or a supermodel by any means, but not someone who should expect to be barked at. The dog days were officially over. I had bloomed. For the first time in my life, I was satisfied with my own appearance. That satisfaction hasn’t been erased by my ex-husband’s rejection or the general rejection that’s followed, so it must be real. I’m confident that I am the most attractive ME I can be, and that’s good enough for me. The key is to see it as succeeding at looking like myself, instead of failing at looking like someone else.

Even so, I still feel a surge of unpleasant adrenaline when certain types of people call attention to me – the “popular kids” grown up, or even the popular kids of today. I have to remind myself every time that they’re not making fun of me. (Right?) It bothers me that after so many years, I still struggle to believe that when people compliment me, they actually mean it. But I’m working on it.

About Brenda W.

Christian. Memphian. Reader. Writer. True blue Tiger fan. Lover of shoes, the ocean, adventure, and McAlister’s iced tea.

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19 Responses to I’m Not Josie Grossie Anymore

  1. Jessica says:

    That’s terrible. :( I’m sorry those kids were so mean.

    I have plenty of things people can tease, but I’ve fortunately not had too much of it (a bit, but not a constant issue). Still, I know what many people are probably thinking, and compliments often feel like they are out of pity. Like, “Let’s compliment her on one of the few good things because obviously there’s a lot of bad, and she could probably use a pick-me-up.”

  2. Milissa says:

    I’m so sorry people were mean to you. :( I think you are beautiful! And it doesn’t surprise me to hear someone whistled at you. :)

  3. andthepiano says:

    This is such a hard thing. I struggled with ugly duckling years, too.

    May I ask if there is a related reason why you always seem to smile with your mouth closed? (Without just wanting to dredge up more uncomfortable thoughts – you do have a beautiful smile!)

    • I get that question a lot. I physically cannot show my teeth when I smile naturally. My mouth just doesn’t go that way. I’m not bothered by it, but it seems to annoy others. If a photographer pesters me about it, I can hold my mouth a weird way to force teeth to show, but it makes me feel ridiculous and chipmunky.

  4. charlieandlu says:

    I love you, Brens! You are so gorgeous… gorgeous on the outside, made even more glowing by the beauty inside. And seriously, you have a body many would envy. :D

  5. mrsm2010 says:

    Oh my gosh, that is so mean and terrible. This is an incredibly insightful post. I can completely understand how the chain of events defaults you into that kind of knee-jerk reaction, but good for you in realizing it and working on overcoming it! That is really brave!

  6. Alyssa says:

    You are beautiful!!! Both inside and out!!!!

  7. Karisse says:

    It’s like you reached into my brain! I had similar experiences and didn’t hit my stride til my 30’s too. I’m not Josie Grossie anymore either! Thanks for posting. Sometimes I feel that if we lived near eachother (and had ever met in person) we’d be friends!

  8. sarah says:

    I feel like I could have written this post! Is this just the norm for all women? Do even “popular” girls feel this way too? It took me years to finally feel comfortable with myself and I really feel like I do now. Sure, I have lapses, but it’s not as big as it was in middle and high school.

    BTW, love the title of this post so much.

    • Maybe they do, but I think we got the better end of the deal than the girls who peaked in high school. ;) Growing into yourself is the best thing about getting older, for sure.

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  10. Danielle says:

    I can relate to this on many levels. But I love this: “The key is to see it as succeeding at looking like myself, instead of failing at looking like someone else.” What a simple but actually revolutionary concept. Love!

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