When I was in school I was an attractive boy: I had beautiful auburn hair, a sharp jaw, deep green/blue eyes, playful freckles, and high cheek bones. I was also lithe and had good muscle tone.
Yay right? Well no, I had zero self-esteem and even less confidence.
Why? well, I cant remember the exact age, but at around 15 the nerves in the left side of my face seemed to collapse. When this happened, my delicate ego could not handle it. I freaked out, and immediately started frowning to try hide it, so to maintain my ‘beauty’. Even before this, I was extremely narcissistic and placed all my self-worth into the image in the mirror.
I had no sense of self, I WAS my looks, that was my only meaning in life: being pretty. Yes I had goals and ideals, but it mostly centered around me being more beautiful than everyone else. The rest were spoils. Thus, when this condition struck me, I couldn’t actually accept it….
It was too much for my psyche
So, my helpful ego pressed it deep down, I began constantly frowning, and never looked back. I spoke, listened, and played sports with a high frown.
It wasn’t too bad in the beginning, so I was able to look relatively normal. My parents didn’t notice and I didn’t register it had happened, so I couldn’t even tell them if I wanted to. Only when drinking, my whole left face seemed to droop. Yet even drunk me staring into the mirror refused to recognise what had happened.
Around this time my boyhood dog, my gentle yet gigantic Rottweiler started having epileptic fits. I loved him deeply and would often sit with him as he seizured and flung his body around. I would speak softly to him and reminded him how much he was loved.
My intense Cambridge curriculum, my eye, my puberty, my dog, my parents. Teenage life was escalating fast, and to make matters worse…..girls
I was still quite the heartthrob but struggled to talk to girls I liked. Although I couldn’t accept the fate of my Horus eye, subconsciously it was destroying my confidence. I would admire girls from a far and wish for the day one of them would talk to me and ask me to go out with them. I was attractive and I knew it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I could never imagine walking up to a beautiful girl and talking to her.
The prettiest girl in my grade once even asked me to sleep with her in her bed. I couldn’t grasp that I was good enough for her…. that she wanted me.
I didn’t even cuddle her, I just shamefully fell asleep.
Yes, I know. Shut-up.
Anyway, to make matters worse, my hair started falling out soon after the incident. This unfortunately became the main focal point of my existence, and my greatest insecurity. I couldn’t hide this the way I could (kinda) hide my bad eye.
At 19 my hairline was noticeably gently ticking away and I had the frown lines of a 30 year old.
The pretty little teenager was aging horribly.
So I buried myself in books. I decided that I will succeed in becoming rich and successful. I studied like a monk on cocaine and flew through high school and university. I was a grade-A student and graduated top of my class in my Honours year. I knew that if I could become rich sooner than later, I could get hair implants and regain some of my lost glory.
I was ready to take back what life had taken from me.
Again, after a brief stint in the family business, I somehow found myself employed and sitting at the head office of a prestigious investment company in Cape Town, South Africa. Wearing a cheap suit and trying to act like an adult. I was en-route to accomplishing everything I ever want.
Looking back, I can see life was starting to leave breadcrumbs for me to follow, I just didn’t have The Eye to see it yet.
Michael's musings 