When i was around ten years old, right on the edge of puberty, the two best looking boys in my fifth grade class, not only the best looking but the best of friends, were at war. Why? Because they both had enormous child-crushes on me. The entire class was involved - we were a strange set of little kids, all intoxicated with drama and petty romance. I had had a  decision to make - between peter and paul, and while peter had started giving me the silent treatment and i'd just recieved a valentine's gift from paul, i knew the choice had really been made for me.

My mom looked no less than proud when i let her in on it. It was something most mothers wouldnt be incredibly proud of - but mine was. Her life revolved around beauty because she herself is such a beautiful woman, and she was sort of an ugly duckling. By the time she was 19, she could blow almost any other woman i know out of the water, she was so beautiful. And now, to a certain extent, she still is, at 50 years old. You'll know what i mean when you see a pic of her, at 47, at the bottom of this entry.

So she was proud - because she couldnt even think of having unattractive kids. It was something i always knew. She had never, ever been proud of me until a couple of ten year old boys destroyed their close friendship over one of her own. By then, i looked more like thirteen than ten. From the very beginning, i had been a magnet for little boys. They never accused me of having cooties - all in the scottish primary school, before i moved, were interested because i was so different. I wasn't white, that's for sure. My best friends were all males. I had four husbands by the time i was 5, and one 5 year thing with my little sweetheart, from when we were 3 to when i moved to trinidad, at eight years old. In trinidad, the kids were more mature. Almost all the boys in my class were interested in me. I'm surprised what a romantic little circle i seemed to grow up inside, considering that my little brother is eleven now and cares only about tigers, world war II, and nonfiction books, as he puts it.

I had several meaningless, childish infatuations, one of them being my close friend, Nicholas. We were on and off from third grade to fourth. He earned the nickname "LynnLover" because apparently, while i had dozed off on the loft when i was eight, he had kissed my lips without me knowing it. It easily could have been a lie, but that didnt really matter. What matters is that he lived up to his nickname for the seven years we knew each other, even though most of the time i was oblivious to it.

My mom was always happy about what she saw. She was proud to have born another beauty to add to her bloodline, and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered to her. But she gave me a hard time, if i didnt look just right. She would tell me often to fix my hair, or my clothes, and take me out to buy new, more mature ones. She gave me my first taste of make-up. When a teacher of mine, in the fifth grade, told my mom that i'm outgrowing my school skirts and they're getting so short the middle school boys can't help but look at me, she was so delighted she announced it to most of the people we knew. If she wasn't putting into my head that i was a beauty queen in training,  she was blurting out every compliment that she got. Caribbean people love beauty. And they only give out compliments when they mean them - and at the same time, they love letting a woman know she's beautiful. So my mom naturally got a lot of compliments. I'd have to sit through her constant relistings of every word about her beauty that was possibly said to her for that particular day. She spoke as if she was worth something, and gave me looks of superiority as she did it.

So when i began collecting my own compliments, i was suddenly relieved. I felt as if i was more than an insect that slithered along the ground. My mom dragged me into a salon to get my eyebrows waxed when i was eleven, telling me i was too hairy. When i saw the result in the mirror, i felt like i was looking at a different person - a much prettier person at that, and i became addicted to the waxes. My mother was more than happy to bring me there every time. People began to notice me very early on - my beach experience with aliya, when i was eleven and a half, was the first time i'd invoked such a reaction from the people around me.

"I never want to be ugly," my mother always said. And she'd look at me, reciting that if i lose my beauty, i'll find that i've lost a lot of my worth as well. I dont know why she gave me such a hard time and not my sister - maybe it's because i had a face and body that were quickly blossoming into something that she knew would one day surpass her. In one way she was happy to have a daughter to show off to the world - in another, it became increasingly threatening.

And beauty was the one thing that we had in common - the one thing that made me even worth talking to in her eyes. She never gave me advice - i'd cry to her and she'd tell me to shut up, and i would accept such treatment with a lowered head until i learned that she really just wasnt worth asking. She would ignore me constantly, or bitch at me constantly, but listen if i had news that another guy was falling head over heels for me, and put on a motherly facade whenever i had dolled myself up for a public event with her. I was worth being her daughter, once i looked nice. Otherwise she 100% favored my sister and my brother. I have too many memories of that favoring to even start counting.

Beauty became an obsession. When i was 12, i was 5'3, with long, sun-bleached brown hair and an already nice figure for a developed teenage girl. But my body needed to develop more, and i was only becoming obsessed with my weight. My first love had fueled my self confidence in the age difference and the way he became obsessed with my physical state, but he crushed it just as quickly when i found out we were done, for a girl who drinks, smokes, and has as much sex as he wants to.

And then, of course, that goddamned account of sexual assault made things crash. I became depressed. I was putting on weight, partly because of the depression and partly because i was preparing for another growth spurt. But as i put on weight, my mother turned away from me, and the one shred of a bond we had was lost. I became bulimic for as long as i could manage, until i gave up n moved on. I tried all sorts of diets, because i felt worthless, and my mother's increasing lack of attention only backed up my ideas. People still continued to compliment her on what a fine daughter she'd created, and so i became both worthless and a threat. The way my weight got in the way of everything became exhausting. I'd already had enough reasons to be depressed - but her total withdrawal from me just cause of  a few extra pounds ensured me that i was a piece of dirt, just as he had treated me that night.

I'm recovering from it now - most of it, that is. I never think of others the way i think of myself - that's a fact. I'm incredibly critical of myself, and this belief  is wholly personal. I have this feeling that i'm sub human, and if i'm not physically attractive then i really am nothing. I had so many fights and so many discussions with my mother to confirm my beliefs in the first place. My self esteem hasn't been low for a while - mostly because i'm reminded of my 'worth' by what happens every time i leave my house and walk down the street, and what every single one of my ex boyfriends has said about me and to me, and what every single one of those ex-boyfriend's mom's had thought of me, too - and, i was close friends with five teenage guys who never felt the need to gaze at pretty strangers, as long as i was around. It's a bad way to live, holding on to every compliment. That's why i wish my mom had just left me alone completely. I wouldn't have grown up with such a stupid mentality carved into my skull.

All those constant compliments were a balance for my esteem levels - and thank god, too. Five years ago i couldn't imagine having sex without being a size four first. But i've worn next to nothing in front of so many different people for the past year and a half, and i've always felt comfortable doing it. I still have this idea lodged in my head though - the idea that if i lost my beauty, i would be nothing worth even paying one thought to. And that way of thinking drives me insane. I thought i had gotten over it. But the few times anything had happened to throw my self confidence off, it wouldn't waver - it would crash. This, i can only blame my mother on. My mother and my molester.

And that's why now  i'm reacting so pathetically and so vainly to the first real insult on my face (not body) that i've ever gotten in my life.

Wessam didn't have to tell me about it... but he often drops little hints to make me insecure. Apparently, he and his mom and his 14 year old bro were watching a movie, n this really ugly woman came on the screen. Wessam started making fun at the woman's ugliness and his brother told him not to make fun, "cause ur gf is not that pretty, she's ugly." And, also apparently, his mother agreed. Wessam punched his bro in the face. At least, that's what he told me. But i dont think he could punch the kid in front of his mom's face (the kid still sleeps with his mom in the first place, even though he's 14 XD).  I guess it was the way wessam said it that made it feel like such a big deal. But i felt the old days coming back when he told me about it on MSN.

It seems like such a tiny thing now that i think about it, but at the time, i was like.. omg omg omg, ugly = worthless, ugly = dirt... hahah. It was ridiculous that out of all the people who compared me to a freaking goddess, his mother's opinion that i'm as bad as ugly would matter so much.

Then again, it is her opinion that matters the most. That sucks even more. If i'm gonna be spending my life as her daughter in law it would be better if her opinion matched the rest of the world and she didnt constantly see ugliness/worthlessness when she looked at me.

I remembered the deal with wessam's cousin, when he brought his gf to meet his own mother. The two ladies are sisters and equally self centered. All they could do was make a huge deal over how ugly she is - when, as it turns out, his gf is just so much better looking than he is.

I've seen his mom n his sister's pics from when they were in their 20s. Ok, they had doll faces and they where pale-skinned. Nothing particularly special though. Nothing that gives them the right to write off everybody they see as ugly. I have a feeling my mother and my tan have something to do with it. She's an arab - and first off, i'm not pale. You could say i have skin the color of milky coffee - but not of milk on its own, like she does. Second of all, i have a caribbean body. Yes, my hips are huge. I wonder if my sexuality bothers her. Third of all, I'm not a pharoh queen egyptian. I'm half asian and it shows in my face. She commented once, when she saw a photo of me, on how asian i look. "Why would you wanna marry an asian woman and have asian kids?"

Hah. That tidbit there just makes me laugh. Hell yes, we all know egyptians are the UBER race, right?Fourth of all, she's seen my mother, and my mother has very dark skin. I guess she just doesnt like the genes.

The fact of the matter is, my mother is only a few years older than his, but she looks about 30 years younger. Not only that, but if they stood side by side 25 years ago, my mom would blow his mom out of the water in a second, for all the people that saw them. Even though wessam's mom has milk skin and my mom has skin like Nescafe gold blend, (everybody in the arab region would prefer milk, which i just dont get) it's obvious that my mom is a 4'11" goddess compared to his mom. Compared to most moms, anyway. Those who actually think i'm prettier than her are giving me a massive, massive compliment, as it's already a hard put just to match her 20-year old form.

Often i dont see it only because i've grown to hate her so much. But there's that part of me that's seemingly kinder than she is and would feel bad for insulting her. I'll hate her for what she's done but nothing more than that - i could never call her ugly cause that simply isnt the truth. When i hate her she looks plain, but never ugly. When i'm ok with her, her beauty sticks out like a sore thumb.

There's something odd about this culture - the fact that the beauty of their son's chosen lovers has to matter so damned much. First of all it shouldn't even be about beauty. I'm hard on myself when it comes to beauty but i'm screwed up. I know that when you're meeting somebody, looks dont mean shit compared to the people they are on the inside. I never go for a guy cause of his looks. My dating history shows a lot of that already - cause marriage and dating simply arent about beauty. Here though, the man can be as ugly as he wants - but if he chooses an ugly woman, he's screwed.

Wessam's cousin is in that place. Everybody is giving his gf a hard time cause they think she's not pretty. Everyone. They dont even stop to think that he himself is a hypocritical jackass with a weird face - not just plain but weird. He gives himself way too much credit, and they expect him to be with a beauty queen.

I asked wessam if all egyptian mothers were like that, refusing to accept any girl their sons married unless she was the portrait of (specifically) an egyptian queen. I started defending his cousin's gf.

"No, his girlfriend is not pretty."

God, would he listen to himself? Compared to his cousin she's a supermodel, and even standing alone i would never call her ugly. His mom's sister is barely much of a prize either. But they both seem to believe they're the sexiest things on earth - and strangely enough, their sons believe it too.

There's this complex that i hate - that while his girlfriend's looks mattered so much, they couldn't even stop to think that their boy - his cousin, her son, and her nephew, whatever i call him - is the one who just is not pretty.

Man i dont want an egyptian mother in law. Not only does it turn out that she's seriously fake, but she's self-centered and riding a high horse, too. I have a feeling she'll make me hate my life when it's done. Wessam often gives me that feeling.

Come to think of it, yeah, wessam often gives me that feeling. It seems like he's new to this whole people-staring-constantly-and-trying-to-call-follow-and-date-his-gf thing, but he doesnt handle it the right way. He poked little hints at me that physically, i wasnt good enough.

"They only give you so much attention cause you smoke cigs in public/ dont wear long sleeves/ look easy/ look too nice so you'll definitely talk to them. And ironically, while he talked about his ex gf, he mentioned how people sometimes came up to her trying to talk to her cause she was so pretty. He often talked about how pretty his ex girls were. And every single time somebody went blurting out to him that he has to know where he found his gf, he disregards it as nothing. Every time people give me that look, he disregards it as nothing. Every time i've been asked out or pursued or fallen in love with he makes up random excuses which just dont add up.

N since the very beginning he hinted that i wouldn't be good enough for his parents.

"My dad told me 'hey, is she cute, your gf? cause if she's not, dont bother!" and gave me that meaningful look.

"My mom tells me all the time to get married to a beautiful egyptian woman n have beautiful egyptian kids." and he gave me that look again.

"It's okay if i talk about how hot girls are, but it's not ok if other guys talk to you about how hot you are - then both you and them are disrespecting me." Eh? Hypocrisy just burns through right there.

Andd he thinks my mom is normal. First dude ever to tell me my mom's not pretty. Because of her dark skin, i'm sure. He finds his mom, with all her old age coming through, to be much more beautiful than anybody else. That surprised me a bit, since he seems to have such a huge criteria for the girls he thinks are pretty.

Once again though, he and his mom never considered that maybe they're not the hottest people in the world either. I know there's people out there who could blow me out of the water. But i also know that there are very few truly ugly faces around. Man, if i was ugly to her, Rachel weisz would be, too.

This whole male and female thing just gets to me more and more every time. Now i have another form of sexism to add to the list in physical expectations. We're already blamed for every mistake our husband makes and every fight we have and every problem that appears in the family life - now we are expected to be goddamn sirens as well as virgins, while the men can be as slutty and sloppy as they want. Damn wessam's arab side... damn egyptian mother in law.. lol. I cant even look in the mirror without wondering if i'm dirt right now.

I feel like if i have to exist in such a place for much longer, i'll explode. How come the culture here has put up every force against me? In the UK  a mother wouldn't necessarily look for a beauty queen in her son's girlfriend - she'd make sure she's not an airhead and she's make sure she's a cool girl. That's basically all that matters and thats the way it should be - the same as it is for the man. No, scratch that - in the culture of the west the men have it harder for once. They have to prove that they wont hurt their daughters, wont get them pregnant, wont screw them over and will take care of them right.

That damned egyptian mother in law has given me an ugly truth to write here. I'm obsessed with being more than just plain, and it's because i'm still a slave of the past - to my mother as well as my rapist. Screw these people. I'm tired.

And the funny thing is, i only started feeling like i wasn't physically good enough when i met wessam. He's making me insecure - either for the fun of it, because he truly believes what his mother does, or he needs to cover up his own insecurities.

You got a glimpse at my shallow side and that's about as shallow as it gets. I now feel incredibly blonde, judgemental, bitchy and simple minded. I hope you just remember who i really am, when i'm not living under my mother's arm.