i've been thinking a lot about beauty this week, and i can sum up my overwhelming thoughts in 2 bullet points:

 

    - who the fuck even decided what beautiful is? like from an anthropological point of view, why is a certain look considered beautiful and others aren’t? like your face is just made up of skin and bone and flesh, and every face is different. your body is just a body; it holds your brain and soul and gets you from a to b and lets you reproduce and experience pleasure. why is one more aesthetically pleasing than the other? it’s so stupidly bizarre, when you think about it.

 

    - why is this ideal of beauty so celebrated? like if someone looks ‘good’… so fucking what? what does that even mean, really? surely life is about our intelligence and heart, and the relationships we build with others and the amazing experiences we have, like going skydiving or reading a book that really touches us or going to a live gig that changes our whole outlook on life. and laughing - laughing is good. i’d take happy and healthy over beautiful any day. beauty is not eternal anyways, everyone looks grey and wrinkly when they’re old!

i kind of thought about this in a weird/slightly offensive context, too. and even though there's a risk that i'm coming across as rude or whatever, i want to share it with you. i was looking at one of those inspirational blogs i usually love about people who have been bullied for their appearance or whatever but are starting to see their true beauty. i looked at a picture of a girl saying “despite my braces and glasses and spots i am beautiful”. and while i totally agree with loving yourself, it suddenly hit me how odd it was that she was so desperate to feel beautiful. because really, why do we care so bloody much about being physically attractive? why don’t we instead celebrate our brains and personality and our compassion? yes, it’s awesome she’s confident in her appearance. it just suddenly seemed so alien and strange to me that it would even be an issue. society is weird.

if someone tells me i look nice, it doesn’t honestly affect me that much. i just think “okay, that’s cool”. similarly, if i receive nasty comments saying i look ugly or whatever, i don’t give much of a shit either. but if someone tells me i'm a nice person, or that i make them laugh, or that they love my writing? that shit makes me feel on top of the world. so beauty? go fuck yourself. i’d love to see the media do a full circle and realize how superficial and pointless beauty is, and start focusing on what really matters. but until then, i’m happy beginning the revolution in my own head. it’s about time, after all.