This is open letter to the girl who didn’t feel beautiful..
To the girls who spend their time trying to conform themselves to the societal standards of beauty; to those who spend their energy beating themselves up for not being ‘appealing’; I need a few minutes of your attention.
I know that this society has labelled some of us as ugly, and I want you to know that it does not matter. Sometimes, you lay scattered across your bedroom floor, trying to figure out how to be ‘beautiful’. I hope you fall back to believing in those things you used to as a child. Hope you start seeing constellations and galaxies in your scars. I hope you learn to ignore the noise that tells you that you are not enough, that you understand that beauty beholds in the eyes of the watcher.
Lets talk about beauty. Where does it lie? It lies in that smile you pass at that kid who looked at you through the windows of that car; it lies in that hand which helped that old woman carry her shopping bags to the fourth floor. Your beauty lies in the pack of biscuit you buy for that stray dog in front of your workplace, everyday. When you drove twenty kilometers with a tub of ice-cream, because your best-friend needed you, that was beautiful. It is beautiful when you excitedly talk about that favorite book you read or when your face lights up at the sight of new-born puppies. You wanted to take them all, along with their mother, home so that you could feed them to good health. That my dear, was beautiful.
You have to understand that standards only stop at the length of the hair and their waist size; but beauty is so much more than that. Your nose may be sprinkled with dark freckles and your stomach bulging through your t-shirt, but darling, do you believe that you are a daydream that does not allow any thought to occur? You’re the smell of an antique book, kept at the library in the Mystery or Art nook. You are the smell of wet earth, when the rain has stopped and the rainbow is bright.
You might be dark-skinned, but that is because God did not want to let you away from himself. He kept you with him, in his oven, just a bit longer, because that is how beautiful he thought his masterpiece is. Your dresses might be a size 12, but your heart surpasses all sizes known by man, and frankly, that is all that matters.
I hope you stand naked in front of a mirror and no longer frown. I hope you see yourself; not look, but actually see yourself and find a universe in your eyes, and find beauty in the saga that is your body. I pray you learn to fall in love with everything that made you You. Your voice is your music, and your acceptance is your power.
To hell with those who casually compared you with other fake painted faces; to hell with those who only appreciate pretentious women in laces.
I want to talk to you about where beauty lies. It lies within you.