Do you think you're ugly?

I’m handsome.

I think.

At least, I know dozens who’d agree with me – my mom, PR people who need editorial space through me, and hordes of friends who reside only in my mind.

Okay, Wai Kit, let’s face it – I have a galaxy of pock marks, and the most notable thing about my features is that they are functional.

Sometimes, I wonder if I had unknowingly said something that offended my maker just before my looks was being decided.

In the words of a very kind-hearted friend, my looks can best be described as accidental.

“Macam kena langa by the lorry, then not enough, the lorry gostan and langa again.”

I also sometimes wonder if I had unknowingly said something that offended this friend of mine.

Yet, my friend’s words didn’t langa me one bit.

Sure, I don’t look like I’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ, and most of the time, I make heads turn – the other way.

But the fortunate thing is, I don’t hate the way I look.

In fact, I feel a hundred per cent fabulous about myself.  

Because I’m confident.

And here's why I'm writing this -- because of a friend. 

 

Monica (not her real name – and I love the way I stress that it’s not her real name because it adds so much journalistic gossip to the story) is an intelligent woman in her late twenties.

She’s highly qualified, holds a decent job and most of all, a beautiful woman: Doe-eyed, a winsome smile that make heads turn (the right way) and to top it off, a svelte figure some would kill for.

Best of all, she’s got a good heart. She’s kind, compassionate, understanding.

Some girls just have them all. Or do they?

Thing is, Monica – despite her appearance, intellect and inner beauty – is the most diffident woman I know.

It’s sad, and wait till you hear why.

Her boyfriend of many years – who, if I may add, isn’t exactly God’s gift to women – doesn’t appreciate her one bit.

From what I’ve heard, he takes her for granted.

Worse, he crushes her confidence, and compares her to other women on the street.

He’d say nasty things about her – in her face – making Monica feel less than who she really is.

Not surprisingly, Monica has zero self worth, which, to me, is shocking.

I almost choked on my Americano when she revealed this to me the other day.

I thought to myself: How in the world could a woman like Monica feel so small?

Come on. She has all it takes to feel super confident, and rightly so.

It pains me to see that she’s not living to the full extent of her beauty.

I’m not asking Monica to flaunt it. But at the very least, I would like her to recognise that she’s beautiful.

But no.

My friend feels inferior because her loved one tells her she’s ugly. Look who’s talking, Mister No God’s Gift to Women.

After hours of prep talk, some tears and words of reassurance, I left the café with a heavy heart.

And that’s why I’m writing about the importance of confidence.

Look. I'm not exactly God’s gift to women either, God forbid.

But if a person like me can feel like a million bucks, then why is a woman like Monica feeling like a million f***s?

The way to feeling – and looking – beautiful starts from within.

In my case, I’m a one-room flat on the outside, but a grand, luxurious home on the inside. And that makes my property value go up.

In Monica’s case, she’s already hot property to begin with. All that needs to be done is a bit of sprucing up so that the interior of her residence lives up to her property value.

And it’s doable.

Like how we spring clean, start by clearing a bit here and packing a bit there, and then some sweeping, mopping and before we know it, the cluttered mess in the house is gone.

So, my dear friend, Monica, you can do it. You will do it.

You’re beautiful.

I know.