I never claimed to be.
I cannot change the face or the body I was born with. I cannot change every picture reminding me how completely not photogenic I am. I cannot change my knobby knees or the persistent bags under my eyes or the curve of my body that you might find ‘fat’. I cannot change my scars and marks on my body that have accumulated as I live. I cannot change the way I look when I wake up in the morning, as I leave the safety of my dreams and come back to your world of judgements. I cannot change the fact that there are some clothes I will never look good in. I cannot change the fact that I’m so imperfect, no one is jealous of me.
Don’t you dare think you can tell me I’m not beautiful.
I’m beautiful in every crack and cranny. My marks and scars are beautiful. My slightly chipped nail polish is beautiful. The callouses on my fingers formed over years of playing an instrument are beautiful. My hair on days I don’t get time to wash it is beautiful. Every curve you think is unnecessary is beautiful. My goofy laugh in pictures is beautiful. My awkward body language is beautiful. My smudged make-up at the end of the day is beautiful. My skin, with all the hills and valleys, is beautiful. My ‘candid’ photographs are beautiful. Do you know why? It’s because I can stand up straight, knowing that I’m my own definition of beauty and that I will not bend down to what (or who) you think is beautiful. My mind and soul are more beautiful than any of your pictures.
I’m beautiful because I believe I am.
Trying to make me believe otherwise is a waste of your time.