Getting Over You

       There are certain turning points in everyone's lives that require them to take a good hard look at where they are, where they've been, and where they are going. It may be a single moment in which this occurs, or it may take place over the course of a good solid year. This past month has proved to be a significant "Whoa" period that has forced me to stop and examine who I am as an individual and member of society. First and foremost, GROSS: I am an adult.
       As I've begun to start the slow and dreadful process of accepting adulthood, I have found the task of Getting Over Myself incredibly complex. Thankfully, I was able to come to terms and maintain a healthy relationship with my current self a few years ago, but what's really been difficult is finding peace with who I was as a child. Mom used to call me Chunk most of the time and loves to relate the story of how my normal infant size transformed into "rolls and rolls and rolls" practically overnight to the general population. I swear that woman would put a photograph of my doughy baby gams in Times Square if she got the opportunity. To paraphrase, I was a pretty darn chubby kid. And I had huge eyebrows that would never cooperate and stick-straight hair that I hated brushing and the most hideous button nose. Guess what? None of that has changed. Except for the fact that I love it all now.
       I'm not sure where that happened. But Facebook Timeline is good for something. I was looking at pictures that I've had posted since 2008 and was uncharacteristically fascinated by the changes I've made in just 4 short years. Please don't think I'm self-absorbed! As I mentioned earlier, I'm at the point where I'm refiguring myself out. And as they all say, history repeats itself. So I'm trying to avoid the bad and recollect the good.
       I started using Facebook in eighth grade. Just in case you didn't know, eighth grade sucks. There's no getting around it. Without explaining further than Iwasapatheticbabywhofeltsorryforherselfanddidn'tgiveahootabouttherestoftheworld, I was a total wreck until probably the middle of ninth. Furthermore, I was up and down like a ship on the high Atlantic until my glorious senior year, which was just plain awesome. Here is Facebook's rendition of Lexi Brontosaurus Rex (yes, that's really my middle name) Hewitt's metamorphosis:
 

With my great pal, Emilee, at a rockin' party in 9th grade. Note the overtweezed eyebrows and awkwardly unkempt haircut. This was the first time I had ever chopped my hair off, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it.



At a cabin with my family, June 2009. I discovered that it was okay to not wear makeup at all times, and LOOK! My eyebrows started coming back! My marshmallow nose started to become less of a nuisance at this point.

Throughout my sophomore year I grew out my hair and favored blunt bangs. This photograph was taken in July 2010, when my family visited Las Vegas for my stepsister Mookie's baptism. I have to say, I thought I was all that and a bag of Cheetos.



Shortly after the previous picture was taken, I met and began to date a good young man named Joey, who is now on a mission to the Phillippines. Our relationship lasted a year, and then in August 2011 I parted with him just as I had once again parted with the majority of my golden locks. Both were positive changes.



My best friend, the beautiful Miss Brittnie, let me model for her so she could test out a new camera in the winter of 2011 (our senior year). Lipstick is the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, seriously. I have no less than 8 classic bullets of lipstick - and counting - leave alone the few dozen lip glosses adorning my bathroom counter.



Remember those skimpy little eyebrows? No more. These babies are practically my signature. They've always been fairly dark, particularly compared to my naturally blonde hair. I'm considering naming them...just like my two frog socks, Romanov and Patrick.

I had never dyed my hair, but over Spring Break I was feelin' feisty and went ginger. Now, it's not too far-fetched: my dad is a full-fledged flaming redhead (with his new full beard he looks like a classy leprechaun) and I've always had some red in my hair. This photograph is from Senior Ball, just before graduation. That handsome man is my aforementioned Russian acquaintance.



        Today, I am satisfied with myself. I am blessed with compassion and health and a good head on my shoulders. My world is full of genuinely noteworthy people, and each one has contributed to the stronger, happier little lady I am. Finally I've gotten over myself! In reality, it's not worth so much time and effort to make excuses for yourself or to try and be someone you're not. Who cares if I'm eighteen? I'll always be a kid. And this kid is proud of where she is, where she's been, and where she's going.

Happy discovering!