) but I'm at a loss. I tend to sound incredibly personal in my writing, and while this piece allows it, I'd like some help. I've got the idea of it all, and I've written my main bit. The talk lasts for 5 minutes, and if not apparently the teacher will make it so 
I'm quiet and if I haven't got good material I might as well have nothing. So, I thought, hey, why not turn to petopia? You lot are all lovely here and helpful and I can think of a certain someone who is very good with her writing. If it's alright, I'd like some advice on what I've written and where I can go with it. Yes, there'll be typos and whatnot. This was written in fifteen. I couldn't do more, as for some odd reason I was tearing up. So, if you don't like big walls of text I suggest not turning to read it. It's not as long as it could and should be, but it's not short in any way. Righty...here we go. --Body image. It's become such a huge part in our society. Our looks define us as a person, perhaps more than our initial personality does. People won't see that you are a kind person. They'll see a warm smile, perhaps a cute complexion. They won't see that you're shy. They'll see someone hiding behind their hair, avoiding eye contact and easily forced into submission. But looks don't just define us as our personality does. They used to reflect who you were. A sign that you were a good or bad person perhaps. Now, although you may be beautiful on the inside and have a loving heart, but people will only see the flaws that you bare. Those imperfections speak louder than any words ever will. Got dodgy teeth? Evidently doesn't go to the dentist. Has glasses? Is a nerd. Has scruffy hair and wears hoodies? Drug addict. We all will see different things, different flaws, but it's all got one word. Ugly.
The word ugly had no definition. I may go to someone on the streets and ask them what they perceive as ugly. They may say 'messy hair', they may say 'wonky teeth'. But if I was to go to someone else, they may see messy hair as a cute and attractive feature. Someone else might see wonky teeth as perfectly fine. We aren't all born with straight teeth are we? I certainly wasn't, and I'm confident in saying the vast majority of us have some wonk in our teeth. This is easily fixed. Wear braces for a year and you're done. You've got lovely teeth now. Most imperfections can be fixed. Make-up can get rid of most flaws you may have. That scar you've got from some rabid nine year old? A touch of concealer and it's gone. Those pimples you're suffering from? Concealer and a little foundation solves that problem. People don't see what you don't want them to see. However, concealer won't fix that crooked nose. It won't fix the broader chin you've got. It won't fix those problems. So what do you do? Do you go on with your life and try to accept these imperfections?
Apparently not. Thousands of pounds are spent on people who feel they need the plastic surgery, but in truth they don't. That crooked nose? Someone probably finds it cute. That broad chin? It's not broad at all. It's fine, but of course people will keep on chipping away at these tiny imperfections until you're convinced that you're that word. That word they call you, perhaps behind your back, perhaps in irony of you. The word that defines itself. Ugly.
No one wants to be called it. People use it all the time, and have no idea how much it hurts when someone will just come out with it. It goes a little something like this.
You and your friend are walking with this new guy. You don't like this boy, or maybe you do. Your friend does, and you're shy. You don't want to say much. It comes to your friends stop and you get that conversation that continues halfway done the road until one of the people involved decides it's best to stop yelling nonsense that no one else wants to hear. The boy will say something, and your friend, who's confident with their physical appearance will snap "Hey! Are you calling me ugly?!" and you know shots are about to be fired. However, the boy (remember, you've done nothing to this guy) just shakes his head, and comments "No, I'm calling her ugly." And you realise his finger is pointing directly at you.
He didn't think. It was automatic. Quicker than a click of the fingers. Your friend doesn't say anything. That's not that bad. She can't yell down the road forever. However, it's the fact that this person came out with it and said it right to your face, yet didn't say it to you at all. You were right there, and they had no issue telling your friend that you are ugly, at all. They didn't think how much that that comment would hurt. How you smiled and laughed it off, but you don't want to talk to them anymore. It's tempting to kick them, punch them, do anything to them to make the, feel that pain they made you feel for that moment. But you don't. You'll keep walking, and you realise that that person isn't speaking to you. You might as well just walk off. But no. You walk them to their door and then rush home, up to he bathroom and study yourself in the mirror. What was it? Your teeth? Your hair? Your eyes? Perhaps it was the fact you hadn't gotten off so lucky in the pimple department? What made them think it was okay to tell you that?! At what point is it okay, to tell someone they're ugly?! It's not. It never is.
Perhaps, it's the one off. That one person wasn't exactly the nicest individual you've ever met anyway, so you shake it off. But then you're at the park, with your mate. The same mate. She's said nothing. You're with two boys. One think so he's all cool, the hot stuff of the gang. The other boy is an oddball, but pleasant. You're just talking, and the boy who's a little odd becomes the topic of conversation. The boy who's all it comments that this person is a little ugly. You shake your head to yourself, and give them a pitiful look. Your friend hasn't said anything. The boy then looks at you, and says "Seems you two have something in common!"
Same as before. They didn't think. That person doesn't care those two comments stack up. You're already building a picture in your head. Your friend didn't defend you at all. Does she agree? That's two people. It only gets worse. Someone in your class comments that your boyfriend is blind, for going out with you. This links to your looks and you add that to the stack. Are you that bad looking? No one jumped to defend you. It'll only get worse, and one day you're in sainsburys, in the cereal isle. Your friends are debating wether the tropical or strawberry granola would be best. Some boys come up to you. They approach, or one does, and remains quiet. He nears, and looks curious. He says nothing. You, of course, lean forward to see who this strange human is. And when he sees you, he looked generally concerned. And slightly disgusted. He quickly backs off, whispering something to his mates as they hurry off. Was it your looks? Surely not. But you think to those other times. Yes. It was your looks. You scared someone off because of your looks. To make it worse, your boyfriend isn't with you anymore. It's alright. He only texted you in the morning once with the message "Hey beautiful." in the two years you were together. Two years and he called you beautiful once. It'll stack and stack. The pain won't get any better. You're ugly, and you've read about it. Ugly people are less likely to get jobs. You get paid slightly less. You're less likely to get promotions at work. You believe you're doomed. You won't find a job, although you've got high grades. You won't get paid as much as that pretty girl next to you. You won't get promoted, as no one wants an ugly manager do they? Make-up doesn't help. You feel fake. But without it, you're ugly. You start to feel as if you're forever alone. As if you've got no one. Your ugly, let's face it. No one would want to lift the veil and see you there, looking at them with your nasty eyes and smiling at them with those crooked teeth. Of course not. No child wants an ugly mother. No grandchild wants an ugly grandma. No ones going to mourn you when you're dead. You were ugly anyway. Doesn't matter. You don't matter to anyone. No one wants you around. Not anymore.--
Yes I can relate to this. Yes, all these things I describe have happened to me. So I know what I'm talking about. It's why I made it. A way to vent my frustrations and to also get it out there that (and his will be included, just written more grandly) and ugly holds no definition. The only thing it describes is itself. Beauty and perfection holds no definition. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and our imperfection aren't imperfections. They're something we live with, and something people should accept.
Now, for some odd reason, I find myself bloomin tearing up again. I'll go find a tissue and then write some more. Don't worry, I won't post the entire thing. However, if someone was willing to read the final product then that'd be great
Is there a maximum word count for a post? I might've reached it, or be close to it
I was meant to imply that the girl had stopped at her door, but now I read back it's a little hard to clarify. That's another thing n my list to adjust then! Oh English...how I despise thee so 
