How disheartening (and telling)…as I searched for thought-provoking articles with the phrase “define beauty”, one of the very first hits is a plastic surgery website. Indeed, is this how we define beauty anymore: artificial, mail-ordered, fake, the surgical removal of what is not hip and trendy, and the addition of what is?
How sad. The most beautiful people in the world to me will never gleam from People magazine’s cover. There’s something that shines and glows through a person’s face when he or she is genuinely loving, caring, with beauty reigning on the inside. No cosmetic product or surgery can mimic it.
How has beauty become so cookie-cutter, so rigid, so artificially defined? It’s a particular body size and shape, a certain lip shape with a particular fullness, an eye color, a specific amount of bleach on the hair…ladies, we owe ourselves better than this. We are more than this.
The more women bleach their hair to look like some plasticized Barbie doll celebrity of the moment, the more I want to embrace the darkness of my own hair; the more women inject their faces to limit their expressions so they won’t get wrinkles, the more I want to yell, scream, laugh, express myself to the hilt. And the more society wants to cram us women into a tiny definition of beauty, the more I wish women would rebel, thumb their noses at the society who wants to clip their wings, and let that inner beauty burst through. What is more beautiful than a strong woman?