On Beauty

How do you look?

I mean this question to be taken seriously. If you haven't thought about it in a while, do so now. If you've got a mirror nearby, take a look. I mean a good, hard look. Men, you can take part in this, but bear in mind that this blog post is not for you. I'm not trying to discriminate against men, but being heterosexual, pretty much every concern of physical appearance that I have relates to females (that being said, you can interpret for yourself how much of what I'm about to say can apply to men; I make no claim for it either way).

So, now that you're thinking about how you look, try and answer the opening question. Just how do you look? Specifically, ask yourself if you're beautiful. You can use any term you want. Beautiful, pretty, sexy, hot, cute... whatever. They equal out the same for the purposes of this diatribe. So, what are your thoughts? If any amount of statistics or anecdotal evidence are to be believed, you answered a bit in the negative. There's just too much, in your mind, that's unattractive or plain or something of that sort for you to be labeled truly beautiful.

Bullshit.

I have come to notice over the last several years that with frightening regularity, girls have no concept of their own appearance. I'm not saying that they're a little off. We're talking complete optic misconduct. It's uncanny. I have watched and listened as some of the most incredibly beautiful girls I've ever known railed against their own appearance. If this was a selective affliction then perhaps I would not be so upset about it. However, as near as I can tell it affects every woman alive.

There is a faulty belief buried deep within the current social philosophy of our times, namely that a person's physical appearance is unimportant. It started well, back with the sentiment of "real beauty is on the inside." This is true, in the heart of it. That sentiment seems to have been taken a bit too far, though. It seems paradoxical given consumer culture's heavy influence on appearances, yet it is there all the same: a belief that how we look is not a part of us. Our appearance is viewed as something we carry with us, to be looked after, but in the end unimportant. We are scorned for placing emphasis on physical attractiveness in a sexual or romantic partner, deemed shallow and lustful. We cannot take pride in our own appearance for fear of being showy or, in some cases, slutty.

Now, don't get me wrong. A person's appearance is not all there is to them, not by a long shot, and those that seek other solely based on beauty are deemed shallow justly. This does not change the fact, however, that it is a part of us. My body is part of me just as my mind is. I received both of them by the grace of genetics and providence, and faulty though they may be in any given way I make due with them as best I can.

I struggle and fail to accept this belief that somehow the body is an expendable asset in comparison to the rest of the self. The body, the mind, the heart, the soul... They coexist to create each of us, and if any component is failing than the whole suffers. As far as I can reason, the disregard of the body has to do with the fact that it burns out faster than the rest of us; the mind may be sharp while the flesh weakens. This is a valid point, but it must not be allowed to overshadow the fact that while the body burns, it should burn bright.

This is not a digression from my original brief. Rather, now that we have established that physical appearance is important, you can see why I am so concerned by women's general inability to recognize their own beauty. It cannot and should not be disregarded. Not only that, but a falsely negative belief about your appearance does you a great disservice. This brings me to my challenge to ye of little self-appreciation:

Who the fuck are you to tell?

This is a very simple concept. There is one person in this world who is completely incapable of judging your appearance: yourself. The factors involved in this are legion, so much so that I cannot talk about them here in detail. So, let's just go with one, that being my personal favorite: You can never be attracted to yourself.

The obvious exception here is lesbians (and I'm not entirely sure about them, either). That notwithstanding, it is impossible for any straight person to accurately judge their own appearance, solely on the basis that they have no idea how the opposite sex looks as them. This is a crucial concept of understanding your own beauty. You are the not the one to judge.

I'm going to repeat that, because it bears repeating.

You are not the one to judge. You are the one person in this world who will never be attracted to you, no matter what (it's an existential thing). Don't tell yourself how you look. Let other people tell you. This is hard to do simply because it is tendency for humans to trust their own judgement over that of others on all matters. Fight that. If someone properly qualified to judge (either a gay person of your gender or a straight person of the opposite) gives you a genuine report on how you look, believe them. They know better than you. If the report is good, then smile, say thank you, and feel good about yourself. It is not hard.

I constantly lament for my own continuous inability to make any given girl understand how beautiful she is. It is horrible. Nothing that I can do can shift her nagging belief that she is not this wonderful, gorgeous creature who deserves nothing less than adoration. She may be brilliant and funny and interesting and a hundred other fantastic things that all people should be, and she can be aware of it (as often she is), but her perception of her own appearance is a tragic weakness. I wish that I could do something to fix this. I truly do. I have lain awake at nights trying to think of ways to be more convincing. Chances are, more than one such woman in question is reading this blog.

So, for those of you to whom any or all of this essay applies, let me say this, once and for all.

You. Are. Beautiful.

Straight up, downright gorgeous.

You know who you are. And if you don't, I'll be glad to tell you.