The Beautiful Girl
This article is a fictional story based on the realities of the world.
The Mirror
There she stood by the mirror. It was a cold February night, quiet and cosy to be inside. The flakes outside the building filled the air with their featherlike embrace.
She was washing her face after the day in her bathroom, cleaning it from the colours that clothed it. Water ran and felt softly warm on the face, like serenity in a physical form.
She stood up from the tap and grabbed a towel nearby to wipe it all away. Looking in the mirror, she'd ensure no spot was left untouched.
Silence fell over the room, as a tiny voice emerged from the back of her mind:
"Beautiful", she heard her mind say.
Quiet.
"What was that?" she responded, not being entirely sure what her mind was trying to say. It sounded like a whisper. Maybe she didn't hear it correctly.
"Girl, you do be looking pretty flippin' cute today!" the voice went on.
A hint of a smile creeped up on her face, probably messaging about disbelief, probably about amusement.
"What? What do you mean? That's crazy", she challenged, the smile growing bigger on her face, as her inner world bubbled in the soap bubbles she used to blow in her childhood.
What a strange sensation indeed, to truly think of yourself as "beautiful".
It was a raw moment, given that the makeup was being washed and not even applied. It was not manufactured at all. She'd look at herself after all of the experiences she had gone through and realise that the beauty had been there all along, perhaps invisible to the human eye. Perhaps as a spark that was put out.
She swayed like a hay in the summer wind. This was a moment to be cherished. The girl she saw in the mirror was the Disney princess that used to be there years and years ago. The distance to her had felt like such a long time.
She went to sleep that night, a wavy canvas world of beige, off-white and gold swaying under her chest.
The Journey
It's summer. The grass under her bare feet is soft and green. The radio somewhere in the distance plays the words: "Vrei să pleci dar nu mă, nu mă iei..." Birds chirp along the sounds that echo from another part of the world.
She twirls in her dress made by her mom and imagines herself in her very own castle ball. In the end, that's a regular weekly schedule of a Disney princess. What would life be without music and dance steps anyway?
This flower didn't compete with the flower next to it, it just bloomed.
Years pass, like a reel in her mind. Memories of going to school, performing dance performances on the stage, spending time with her friends. The more she grows, the more adventures she has. The unlimited possibilities are what keeps her going and striving.
However, the world isn't all so simple. It throws its twists and turns, ones that build character and others that break it completely.
"You're not enough", she heard a voice say.
"You're too much", another continued.
"You're too little."
"There are better people to do your job."
"You're not worth paying attention to if you look like that."
Stings in her heart with each word uttered.
Lost opportunities. Closing circles. One of her struggles became the fact that she just wasn't "pretty" enough.
What a pity for a spirit so sweet she'd rarely get upset with others or judge them for the smallest of flaws. She still was the girl that twirled in the summer dress, just diminishing in size inside of her, distancing deep down under the shells to be protected.
Of course, she didn't find herself "ugly". It's kind of a strong word. Places could be ugly, but not humans, in her opinion. It's just that she didn't feel like she was pretty enough. Just normal. Grey. A place where she had to be more. She couldn't, though, no matter how hard she tried.
The Illusion
She stood at a metro station below the bustling heat of a Chinese metropolis. Far away from home, in a world of completely different characters spelled out on walls, signs and roads. A new experience like no other.
On the other side of the train tracks, there was a face of a lady looking back at her. A gentle smile in the camera, printed out on a billboard. Aside from what was being advertised - she doesn't remember either - her attention was drawn to the tone of her face. Light. White. Just like hers without self-tanning lotion.
They didn't sell that stuff over here, of course. If you were to walk into a cosmetic shop, you'd be promised beauty in the form of a skin lightening bottle. There you go. €25, please.
"Have I been bamboozled?" she thought. "Did it take all these years to realise that my 'pale' complexion COULD be celebrated like this as well?"
It felt all so topsy-turvy. Of course, her teenage self had been somehow distantly aware of this kind of a culture. But it never truly hit her before seeing it for herself. It's as though her eyes had opened up from an illusion. Woken up from a hypnosis.
There is nothing wrong about that sporty little tan on your face. But liking pizza doesn't exclude the ability to enjoy ice cream all at the same time. The other one savoury and the other one sweet, the other one hot and the other one cold. Both are just as good, aren't they? Beautiful, regardless of it being in their own unique ways.
She realised that no matter what they tried to feed her to standardise “beauty”, heck, it would be something completely different in another part of the world, or even history. Let them tell the Ugly Duckling what they wanted her to believe, she would still be considered a model in the surroundings of a different narrative.
It was crazy to her, as she travelled the Mediterranean coast, how she would hear some beautiful, brown-eyed and dark-haired people have the lowest self-esteem in their colours. The same that were considered absolutely adorable and unique in her own northern country. What once was: "My eyes are just that colourless shade of blue and grey", had turned into a: "My eyes are so dull and brown." I wish my traits were brighter. I wish there were more contrast to my looks. I wish I always had the exact opposite that I don't have.
It started being really difficult to give a hoot about things like skin, hair, and eyes. Body shape, facial traits, and smile. The illusion they had tried to sell her had started crumbling and there was nothing stopping that process.
The Epiphany
"I'm beautiful in my way 'cause God makes no mistakes!" a female voice sings on the radio.
"Don't worry, be happy!" another continues, whistling a cheerful tune.
There's more to you than your looks! You're worth more than gold, you just don't understand it yet! Live, love, laugh, and everything will turn out fine!
Mantras that mean well. Perhaps said from a place of sincere desire to advise. Perhaps not 100% helpful every time, though, if used in certain ways.
Idea = good. Execution = mediocre.
"My teacher at school once said: 'Learning doesn't occur through a teacher pouring information from a pitcher into your brain. You have to do your own work to actually learn these things.' I think it's the same with this. You can't force anyone to see their own beauty. It's a journey that will take time, and it's completely fine. But hopefully maybe one day you'll get there."
She continued: "The thing is, of course your looks aren't everything. It isn't you. I did grow up believing I was a 'beautiful girl', but not paying a lot of attention to it. I knew who I was and that such things were trivial. But the world is different. It makes you question yourself, the possibilities of it aren't endless. Sometimes people don't see you for anything else than your looks, and that's why we're so obsessed about trying to fit in. While I'd like to be a saint that doesn't think about the way she looks, it's a fact of life that a girl wants to know she's 'beautiful'. A guy wants to look 'good'. And everyone else. It may not concern every single person on this Earth, but that's the way I've experienced it. At some point, the motivation towards it doesn't only come from the outside, but also from the inside. It's a human desire to be 'beautiful'."
She paused for a bit, reflecting on her experience in that February bathroom and what had led her to that moment.
She lifted her gaze again: "Similarly, I think that the solution to this issue derives from the inside."
She explained: "When I was in my lowest lows, it was often hard for me to believe it when someone did compliment me. When you don't believe it yourself, it just sounds like they're being 'nice'. Or maybe sometimes it did spark some joy inside me, but then it was gone again. Gone as fast as it came."
"I think the major factor in this change inside me is inner peace. I've had times in my life when I was completely lost. And after them, I've had the courage to take care of myself again. Surround myself with things that I actually love. Paradoxically, perhaps, opposition is part of the reason why I had this little bit of a ‘comeback’. You wouldn’t be as happy about your current circumstances if there hadn’t been a time when they would’ve been gone. I feel more like myself than I’ve felt in a long time, and that’s why I realise that I’ve actually been feeling like this for quite some time already. It was just that one night when I was able to verbalise that feeling.”
“And I’ve had times when I’ve been completely outside of my comfort zone. I’ve done things that I used to be very, very scared of. I’ve done them repeatedly, as long as I wasn’t scared of them anymore. I lost my nervousness about stuff at some point, and even my friends noticed that I had become a liberated, happy person living her life to the fullest in the right surroundings. I was more free to do things, more relaxed and in my own element. It’s the major source of this peace I feel inside me nowadays. And that peace has led to genuinely accepting myself.”
“It may sound strange, but that’s how I discovered it. It’s odd, of course. What has this got to do with looks? I don’t know either. But it’s not as empty of a sentence as those things said to me before. Being peaceful and standing up for myself has truly changed the way I see things. So I believe that is why everything changed for me. Let’s just say that I still have my good and bad days, but during those times, I hold onto that one memory of me having felt it that clearly in that moment. It felt like that one moment when my eyes weren’t as foggy. This world isn’t going to be an easy place, but as I hold onto that memory, I recognise that my beauty will always be there, even if hiding to the human eye. I knew it was going to be precious for me.”
“The change in me didn't happen staring in the mirror, wondering what it was that I could change to become more 'beautiful'. Between these times of being in my lowest lows and here in front of you today, I didn't change in any drastic way. I didn't lose or gain any weight, I didn't do anything to my face. The change was derived from some completely different place.”
“External validation isn’t going to take you anywhere if you feel differently inside. Neither will the changes you make, I reckon, as those are things on the surface as well. Finding your own beauty will never come from the outside, but from the inside. That’s what will sustain. Of course, you can and you should express yourself. If you want to change something, do it. Choose your fighter. You’re entirely up to you. But you should check your motive for it as you do. Are you exercising to look a certain way, or are you doing it to feel good inside? I noticed that when I started doing the latter, I started feeling a lot healthier. The world has distorted its ideals anyway. Your main motive should be to take care of yourself, to treat yourself, not to chase standards that are either illusions or fleeting. You can break out from the puppet show and create your own hero film.”
“Finding inner peace is what changed everything for me. I’d be looking at myself in the mirror to realise that I did think I was beautiful, regardless of any trivial factors. It doesn’t happen through snapping your fingers. Empty mantras aren’t going to magically fix all your problems if you feel like they’re not taking you anywhere. It’s going to be a journey, and it’s totally okay to not always feel okay. But I hope, and I’m sure, that one day you will get there. I promise.”
“I hope one day you will have eyes to see.”
The Vase
In Japan, there is an art form called kintsugi1. It means repairing broken pottery by rejoining the pieces with gold or silver, making it more precious than it was before1. In Japanese culture, it represents accepting breakages as part of one’s history, without concealing or being ashamed about them1.
Much like kintsugi, none of us will survive unbreakable from this life. Much like kintsugi, I have hope in the fact that broken pieces can be repaired. What doesn’t kill you doesn’t always make you stronger, that’s for sure. But even when there’s no faith, there can be a spark of hope. If you can’t believe in something right now, the first step can be to at least hope that it were true. One day you will get there. You don’t have to reprimand yourself for not being a superhero that is capable of everything. Just keep on pushing forward because effort will eventually be rewarded.
Know what’s best for you. Own your style. Carry your story proudly. Just think of everything you’ve gone through and here you still are, you little champion. You rock.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. Not everyone has pure hearts either. And while it’s important for a human to feel they’re “beautiful”, I do wish that one day we’ll take a look through each other’s eyes and see people for who they truly are beyond the surface. To let everyone be at peace with their bodies.
