Article April 4, 2011 Issue

Peeling off the ‘ugly’ label

By Mary Sanford

From an early age, my nickname in my family was “Ugly.” Long before the popular TV show Ugly Betty, “Ugly” was something my family always called me. As the youngest of four, I was often the brunt of family jokes and teased mercilessly. I kept it hidden from friends and boyfriends—an “ugly” little family secret, so to speak. Even through my early 30s, the family nickname continued. But while many people are given nicknames, I had come to believe what this name said about me. I had accepted it as a fact of my life. I was so convinced it was the truth that when others complimented me, I said to myself, “Oh, they don’t really mean it. Of course I’m ugly!”

Later on, I earned a doctorate and enjoyed a successful teaching career in higher education. Here I was, dynamic in the classroom. I had the respect of my peers. My students loved me. But all of that didn’t matter, because inside I could not change what seemed to be the truth about me: I was ugly.

At one point, I was introduced to a man who casually mentioned how quickly he could decide if someone was attractive. I quickly surmised I would fail his test or anyone’s test of attractiveness. 

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