Remember that you are imperfectly beautiful, and that’s the prettiest thing
In my world beauty is defined by the power of your smile, and not the size of your jeans. The pressure to look a certain way has been around for some time, big hair, full lips, perky breasts, tiny waist, long legs, perfect skin and eyes that could grab the attention of every living creature on earth. The media has created an ideal of beauty that is both stereotype and quite unfair if you ask me, especially when you don’t tick all the boxes, and I would say most of us don’t, thank goodness for that.
When we’re little girls, we play with dolls and pretend to be a princess. Although we have incredible fun indulging in the innocence of childhood, we also become aware of how vital beauty is in our society. From how people perceive us to how we see ourselves, it is a steady progression into the limited ideals of the visible spectrum. When we become adults, all our insecurities take centre stage, and it takes so much time and effort to find a balance between you and what the world expects.
When I was at school, I remember being the only girl that had a mullet, my mum’s idea of the perfect haircut for a teenage girl, I accepted it with youthful dignity, and even though I was not too fond of it, I wore it. I became acutely aware of how people laughed at such a superficial characteristic. “How many goals did you score today, Maradonna?” some would sarcastically ask. “Does your hairdresser hate you that much?”, others would proclaim. I felt quite awful that day, to the point where I wished for a paper bag to cover my head, I didn’t feel pretty or good enough, just by not blending in with the crowd. I wanted to have wings so that I could fly away.
That day had a massive impact on my later life. I did everything I could to look as perfect as possible, from waxing to manicures, pedicures, extensions, expensive makeup and creams, fad diets, intense exercise, you name it, I did it all. I blended in like never before, and for a while, it felt great. I was proud of all the hours I had invested at the gym, and for all the chicken broccoli dinners I had consumed with ardent determination. Still, after years of trying to look my best, I wasn’t happy, and it all became too exhausting. Sometimes I wanted to go to the supermarket without worrying about someone looking at my bare face, messy hair, or imperfect colour combinations. I wanted to be free in the world and not feel trapped in a state of unattainable perfection, where I was always on the losing side. This constant thinking about my appearance created a lot of anxiety and unnecessary stress; it made me feel like I was competing against myself, but there was never a winner.
So I decided to change and see things differently. I wanted to be my real self and still feel beautiful, to wake up in the morning and appreciate the simple things. A good cup of coffee, reading a great book, taking up hobbies, watching movies and eating chocolate without feeling the immense guilt of extra calories. I was going to appreciate every part of my body, every curve, stretch mark, every pimple, blemish and wrinkle; I was going to look at myself and value what I stood for. It felt great, and for the first time, I knew I was beautiful. I realized that it doesn’t matter whether your a size 8, 10, 14, or 16, it doesn’t matter if your hair is curly, wavy or straight, it doesn’t matter if your skin isn’t perfect or your thighs have cellulite, it doesn’t matter if your too tall, or too short, too skinny or too curvy, all that matters is that you are unique.
We are all individually beautiful and see the world from different perspectives. The idea of beauty is not the same for everyone, and it never will be, that’s the whole point. You have to realize that you are worth more than a makeup palette or expensive shoes; you are worth more than having clear skin or perfect teeth. You are imperfectly beautiful, and that’s the prettiest thing.
