You really don’t need to lecture women about how confidence is the best accessories on them. Women are struggling with physical confidence and it never really goes away. Tell me otherwise and I’d call bullshit.
Mask it with brain and behavior all you will, but truth is, years of physical traits thrown into mainstream media we grew up with can’t really ever go away. Yes, we are smart and we demand to be seen as male equals, but looking great is also still a good feeling boost. It’s not a crime, really. So, it’s also natural that you want to do more in terms of looking good and brand it as “effortlessly” when people question how your guy ends up with you of all women. Cruel? I’d say society just being society.
I didn’t land myself a Mr. Perfect when I married my husband and then 9 years-boyfriend. We grew together from when we were just 17 years brats to a fully functioning adult living under the same roof trying to take care of each other referencing YouTube how-to’s. So, he knew me from the years I cut my own bangs and failed miserably and I knew him from the oh-so-wrong emo era with long bangs and stuff. We were bangs-bro. We survived it and still cherished each other as beautiful enough for one another.
But it keeps bugging me that people say he’s beautiful (no offense, in laws, you did a great job, he’s fine man), and they look at me and still say “Yeah. Nah”. I want to be the beautiful one in our relationship. I wanted it and I still want it. He would say I’m beautiful and I still don’t believe it, because when I see myself on any reflection, I’m still lacking beauty. Or, lacking effort? That’s the thing, you want an effortless beauty. But then again, being beautiful can also be an effort on its own. Why is it that my beauty standard is so contorted?
Maybe he has this intriguing thing about being a full-time musician. Believe me, I know how hot it is to be a musician. I fantasize myself regularly playing a good music when in reality I’m tone deaf. Well, I’m kinda hot too in terms of career. But, nobody bothers to ask me what I do to flaunt to them and make me feel good about it. Why? Because I’m the less beautiful among us. Bet if I look better I’d get asked, too.
It really comes down to how we look, does it? I hope it doesn’t. Like Cristina Yang would say “If you want to appease me, compliment my brain!” But, dr. Yang, I would say it’s still good to be recognized as someone who has all gene-bets favor you, and there’s nothing wrong with it. After all, those Instagram filters are there to do so, to correct what our reality states about us physically. Those dog filters on Snapchat? Never knew that a dog’s nose can transform your front-camera look that significantly, huh? You see, we are supported to be more beautiful, outside.
So, what now? I might be whiny but I’m allowed to.
I don’t get compliments for how I look, so I made up with captions that I wrote myself on Instagram. I want to be smart, or appear smart. That is the harsh truth. Don’t get me wrong, I like writing, I live by it, I live out of it, and I like taking pictures and turning it into something beautiful as some sort of portfolio for my creation. I create, I’m proud of what I’ve done, I would say I’m blessed and successful, and I should need not physical recognition.
I don’t blame my other half for being so beautiful and cool and good at music it hurts, it’s what’s made me lucky. And God knows he always thinks of me the same way, not less, maybe even more. I no longer blame the mainstream media either because beauty sells, that’s why celebrity couple with equal beauty (or so they think) sells too. Always. Guess I’m sold that way? Well, maybe I am. I’m just trying to be honest and not being all careless about looking pretty, let’s put that aside for a second.
Beauty fades, but damn; recognized beauty at the moment when you still have it, it does its job of making you feel good hence the makeup industry’s triumph. It sometimes works better, even more than a recognition, a nod or a tap on shoulder-good job-ish compliment. I’d still flare my nose for acknowledgement in my work, but looking good and recognized as so still feels surreal. Let’s just be honest for a second here. In a meantime, I’d still have my brain to use up and to learn, and will work my ass off to get where I want to be too. I get to bring my character dies with me and enhanced, fully-flared beauty, although great, will stay behind.
I think I digress.
Now, women, tell other women she’s beautiful and means it, because it feels great, and even greater when it comes from fellow woman.