Beauty

Take a moment to look in the mirror.  Seriously.  Right this second.  Don't worry, I'll wait.

So.  What did you see?  If you had to describe yourself to a police sketch artist, would it turn out something like this?




Why does this happen?  For that matter, why do we fight so hard to prevent wrinkles from appearing?  Why do we spend millions of dollars to make ourselves look like Barbie dolls when we are already likely beautiful as we are?  Why do some people approve of adding plastic surgery to what is already beautiful?  Why do we hate ourselves?

I'm of two minds with this.  On the one hand, I'm appalled that women in general do not think they are beautiful.  According to an article I read on Yahoo this morning, only 4% of women around the world would describe themselves as beautiful.  I can definitely say I would not.  Matt would disagree.  He even thinks I'm beautiful when I'm barfing.  He may be deluded.  I'm not sure.  I know that what I see in the mirror is not what other people see when they look at me.  I see tiny eyes because I wear glasses, and I feel that I have an enormous nose, and my jaw isn't really there because I have a fat face because I'm overweight.  And that's just me.  What about all those women out there who hate the way they look so much they butcher themselves to fix it?  And what if the results are worse?  Do they go through surgery after surgery, hoping that somehow, some way, they eventually become satisfied with what they see in the mirror?  And then there's the concern that they may never be satisfied at all.

However, I said I was of two minds on this issue, and I've only talked about my first opinion.  My second opinion is that of course women and girls hate themselves!  Look at what we are bombarded with every day!  At the grocery store, it's airbrushed, plucked, trimmed, made up perfection on the covers of magazines, reminding us that we will never, ever look like Jessica Alba.  Our hair will never be smooth or thick enough, our faces will never be clear enough, our breasts never perky enough, and we will never, ever be thin enough.  We are never enough.  That is the message that is conveyed, very clearly, to every woman who has ever entered a grocery store or read a magazine or spent any time watching television or using the internet.  Diet commercials.  Hair dye commercials.  Clothing ads with models whose thighs are skinnier than my forearms.  Victoria's Secret, which doesn't even go up to my cup size.  New tricks to lose some weight so we may be acceptable and loved.  We don't deserve love because we don't look like Jessica Alba.

You know what?  That's bullshit.  So what if I don't look like Jessica Alba?  So what if my weight is probably twice hers?  (I may be estimating high, but she's so tiny.)  Why am I not beautiful?  Why don't we describe ourselves as beautiful?  Would that be too full of ourselves?  Are we that concerned about what other people think?

Look in the mirror.  Find something you like about your face.  After you do that, I want you to do something radical.  Find something you like about every single aspect of your face.  I want you to do that until you like your whole face.  Don't worry.  I'll try it, too.  I think we're all going to be sobbing at mirrors and confusing the people in our lives very soon.  But hey.  You are beautiful.  You are strong and you are wise.