Fuckin elitedaily.com, uhhhh. I love-hate you. Because every 10th article was actually worth reading but more so that the 9 others were inciting enough for me to open and then proceed to shake my head in shame. G-damn. This is my generation.
The most liked comment after every article is this,
“Clearly a 20-somehting that has no idea about reality talking about things that they are mostly unqualified to discuss making an ass of themselves. Lowering the bar of journalism time after time”.
Yup. It’s what we were all thinking, even me a 20-something making overstatements without the experience to back them up time after time.
Here’s the latest rabbit hole that I got click-bated into:
6 Reasons Why Beautiful Women Are Also Insecure Women.
I’d like to take a moment to pat myself on the back for clicking on it in the first place. Does that sound like the most narcissistic thing that you’ve heard all day? Well good. I am a beautiful woman and I said it. Let me explain. I spent a solid 11 years of my life hating the way that I looked. Nit picking every single part of me: my fat ass, my Jay Leno chin, my belly that never gets completely flat no matter how long I go hungry or the number of crunches I do, every freckle, my huge feet, my man hands. These are all real things. And they didn’t magically disappear. They’re all there more present than ever. But that’s okay. It was a very very long, winding, emotional path to get to the place that I am now: my body is the beautiful external reality of who I am. A very large part of my new-ish sense of self-acceptance is thanks to this lovely lady.
Maybe it just takes one person to bring to your attention that you shouldn’t be your own worst enemy. That you are worthy of your own love. I survived puberty, cat calls, attacks by other women and girls, the incredibly surreal process of growing and birthing a baby for the first time and the body that you’re left with afterwards before I learned, accepted, that I am okay.
The external me has been all of the shapes and sizes. I’ve been sick and well. I’ve been skinny and fat. I’ve ran races, I’ve laid on the couch eating cupcakes. I’ve spanned the gamete. Haven’t we all. Maybe it’s all just getting to be old news. Yeah yeah, this month I’m not crazy about my external appearance in three weeks it’ll be better, or worse, and eventually it’ll get better or worse. I just decided to get off of the emotional roller coaster that comes along with it. That’s a choice that you get to make. WHAM. You’re welcome.
Any who, back to the girl that wrote this upsetting article. Lauren Martin, darling. Here’s the thing. You are beautiful. I actually am hard pressed to remember a woman that I’ve met that I didn’t think was.
So, I get it. Every point that you made was founded in a reality. The reality of way too many.
The following quote was prefaced by: We’re constantly paranoid and always comparing with a bunch of becuase’s this is one of the strongest arguments.
“Because it’s the primary adjective you describe them by
She’s not smart, she’s beautiful and smart. She’s not hilarious, she’s “decent looking with a personality that makes up for it.” The first adjective before any others is about her beauty. All her other qualities come second, as a definer.
When your entire life is based on a single adjective, you begin to think that’s all you’re defined by.”
I catch myself doing it to my daughter. Well, because she IS beautiful. It seems to be the first attribute that slips from my mouth on a regular basis. To be honest though, she could look like a total ogre and I’d still think that she was the most incredibly breath taking creature to grace this earth. Let’s take a moment to appreciate that she is in fact stunning:
It’s hard not to mention. It’s also hard not to mention that she’s scarily brilliant. That she is more cleaver than is healthy for a 6 year old. That she lets out this laugh that makes you smile from three rooms over. That she’s amazing in every way and almost every single one of those reasons is the direct result of who she is as a person. She’s six. This only gets better, I am a little scared and a lot taken a back.
So, Lauren. Maybe one day you’ll be blessed with an amazing little human to call your own. Maybe then you’ll see the world through a whole new lens. Maybe then it will all make sense. You are beautiful. Everyone is beautiful, standards our not.
Here’s what get’s me the most. Ever’s eyebrows, totally unsemetrical— those are mine. Her checks those are my mom’s. Her nostrils one a differentiated sister of another, my own reflection.
The 8 pack that she rocks, definitely from her dad. Those feet, I think I saw them once on her Grandma Carol. ‘Dat booty tho, yup I’ve tucked that same one in skirt after skirt. The 4 and a half feet that she already stands, must be a great grandparent that we never got the privilege to meet.
Maybe it takes creating your own human to realize that we’re all just the product of genetics, some traits dominant other recessed. So yes, you are a beautiful girl, woman. Yes, you are insecure, because you haven’t been taught yet, or you haven’t fully learned. You are a woman your beauty is inherent. Please own it.