I'm Pretty...

I'm pretty. 
It's totally fine if you don't agree right off the bat, as most the time I don't really either.  It is however, something I was always told in the spot of "You're smart."
I was never really told I was smart as a kid/adolescent.  I got "You are pretty and bright."
This wasn't by a couple people, it was by basically everyone who ever had to describe me, ever. I actually noticed rather quickly, by like 10, the "pretty and bright."
At 30 years old, I have finally found myself, and comfort in who I am completely, so I can whole hearted, say I don't give a hoot what you think about me or my intelligence, however, I can look back and tell that the choices I made in my life, were directed by this opinion of me.  The choices I made about college; my mother told me often "college isn't for everyone." and I complied with choosing a career that I could use my artistic talents.  I never focused for worried about money, maybe because I never thought myself smart enough to make very much of it.
I was always told what a terrible speller I was, yet as an adult, can very easily spell too, to and two better than a lot of my 30 year old counterparts. I can also correctly use their, they're and there.  I'm not the best speller, but I get by with minimal spell check errors, and actually find myself a pretty proficient writer.
I have an older brother with a very high IQ.  HE is smart. Very smart, and I was the next kid after him.  He could read at 2, and no I am not exaggerating. He was so smart, and school came so easy for him, I think it had a big impact on how people perceived me.  I didn't like school at all, and it wasn't hard for me either, I just chose other things over school so I got terrible grades.  It wasn't hard for me, I think my mother believed it was just too hard for me, when in reality, I just would rather be outside or with friends, so I chose other things. I was a regular at summer school and correspondence, but this was a choice. 
I think as I get older, this stigma has stuck around, and it's not other peoples fault, it is my own.  I project that I am not smart, but funny, or crazy, because I was told so often that I feel this is who I have to be. That since no one ever affirmed that I am smart, I just must not be. 
Well how silly, and dangerous! I have been to 6 countries, I have friends and experience all over the world.  I went to college, and even though it was a trade, I was damn good at it!  I have read, and read, and learnt, and engaged with people from everywhere!  I let the Jehovah's witnesses in for a chat, I talk to the old lady on the corner talking to herself, I talk to the homeless guys, and have lived through some crap in my life.  Am I smart?  I'm bloody brilliant, and when I look around at all the sheeple, I am actually smarter than most!I know health, nutrition, parenting, marriage, religion, atheism, God, evolution. I know how to write a book, poverty, wealth and taxes. I know about suffering all over the world, and the reasons behind it.  I know love, and hate, and forgiveness, and spirituality.  I know, because I am smart.
Now, even though my entire life I was told how "pretty" I was, this wasn't a gift, it was a curse. I couldn't live up to "pretty." I wasn't that pretty.  So since it is the only thing I thought I had, It became all I focused on.  Weight, and looks, and make up, and the way I dressed.  bleh.  I was constantly looking for others' approval.  Breaking that cycle is so freaking difficult, and I still know so many adults who haven't.  I have learnt that no ones opinion of me determines my self worth, but its a continual reminder.  The fact is, half the planet thinks I'm butt-ugly.  But having that wisdom makes that just as meaning-less as those that think I am pretty.
I think the stigma hindered who I dated, as I wasn't smart enough to date a smart man. When I met my husband, I felt to damn insignificant in intellectual comparison, I almost didn't let myself have an opion about things.  How could I because he is THAT smart.
Once, again, and the moral of the story, is when I could realise that others opinions of me do not reveal my reality.  James is brilliant at so much that I am not, but then again when it comes to lot's of things, he is kinda a bone-head.  No offence to my husband, I am just saying the things I know he doesn't, and some of the stuff he knows I don't.  I can't let his IQ determine how intelligent I am.
We need to be aware of how we stereotype our kids, good and bad.  Even though you may think you are complimenting them, it can be a bit dangerous.  I have an aunt who taught me she never acknowledged her daughters weight or any ones weight in front of her.  Her daughter was skinny, and as a society we love to point out how skinny kids are, as well as chubby. By her doing that, it reminded me that weight isn't an issue for kids until YOU make it one for them.  Hell, it's one of the principals in my book! I know as we get older, most of us grow and learn about ourselves.  Why we are the way we are.  Alter the things we don't like, emphasise the things we do.  I just hope we can learn that our kids shouldn't be put in boxes, because our opinions mean so much to them.  It's easier said than done.  I for the life of me can't stop telling Joliet how beautiful she is, or telling Haven how brave he is.  But it's food for thought.
P.s. I'm smart, not pretty!