I wasn't a pretty girl. I was six feet tall at 15, you know.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I was never pretty enough to be the pretty girl and I was never quirky enough to be the quirky girl. Boys didn't look at me in high school and think I was the pretty girl.
Growing up, I never felt like the pretty girl.
I'm pretty, but I'm not, like, a 'pretty girl.'
I didn't consider myself to be pretty, not at all.
Even my mother told me: 'You are a handsome woman, but you're not pretty. Pretty girls don't have those big bones.'
I'm not a pretty boy who came to town and burst out of the gate, which is a good thing, because if I was, I probably wouldn't have been good enough then. I probably wouldn't have lasted. So I was very lucky not to be pretty.
No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they're pretty, even if they aren't.
I didn't grow up thinking I was pretty; there was always a prettier girl than me. So I learned to be smart and tried to be funny and develop the inside of me, because I felt like that's what I had.
I was really heavy growing up, so it was never feeling like the pretty girl, never being popular.
You don't know how pretty you are when you're young. Just being young is beautiful. And I was astonishingly pretty - you know, very skinny.