pretty isn't pretty enough anymore.

[can't it just be enough to exist?]

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i am fed up with the narrative that one has to be perceived as attractive in order to gain love and respect.

and yet, i’ve found myself enabling this kind of toxicity into my everyday patterns.

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if we’re being entirely honest, the normalization of dangerous beauty standards and trends has made a return into our generation’s culture. ever so-subtly disguised eating disorders, plastic surgery, proportion measurements, and anti-aging propaganda has overtaken the media we consume and the way we think. and no matter how much you despise it and recognize the inauthenticity it brings about- you can’t help fall victim to it.

i feel like today’s standards could best be described as “unreal”. i want to say that this is yet another consequence of the implementation of AI into our every move, but the reality of it is that we did this entirely ourselves. modern-day “feminism” says: plastic surgery or not, you are still beautiful! but also screw anything that contributes to the ideology of the male gaze and pressures women into succumbing to it! but also it’s okay if you want to change yourself entirely under the guise of empowerment when you’re actually falling victim to unrealistic expectations. but also fuck men and steal all their money.

it can come across as hypocritical, to say the least.

and whole-heartedly, i will support women until the day i die. do what you want and do what makes you feel good. but what i cannot and never will tolerate is the above stated “feminism” (which in my eyes could not be further from feminism) that excuses and covers up the lasting effects of the patriarchy, which harms everyone, not just women. kim, people are dying of BBL’s!

and people are dying from trying to fit an idea that was never meant to fit them.

the male gaze: the perspective of a notionally typical heterosexual man considered as embodied in the audience or intended audience for films and other visual media, characterized by a tendency to objectify or sexualize women.

how exactly does this play into our society?

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it’s in the media we consume. the tv shows we watch. that one AE jeans ad featuring sydney sweeney and the revamp of objectification. the advertisements on our phones as we doom scroll past bodies that we’ve deemed better than our own. the drop you feel in your stomach when you see your boyfriend liked a picture of a model who looks the complete opposite of you.

it does not matter what stage in life you are at now. at some point, as a woman, you are certain to have felt the pressures of the male gaze and the impact it has on yourself and others. it makes us question our worth and blurs the lines between admiration, desire, and control. it can drive you insane, make you do things that would make your younger self cower in fear, and fundamentally change the way you perceive yourself.

this extends far past just how women feel. everyone feels it. gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia run rampant in all communities. the glorification of gym bro culture and bulking and “strong is the new norm” has quite literally brainwashed some of the men i know. it has created an insecurity that leeches off of toxic masculinity and unhealthy habits, leading to risky behaviors and the manipulation of the definition of “healthy”.

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i vaguely recall a moment in my late teens when i convinced myself i was ugly-

i was standing in front of the girl’s dorm bathroom mirror, mascara staining my under eyes and cheeks. as i tried to rub it off, i pulled at my skin violently, attempting to change my face in any way that i could. i hated myself. my skin was never clear, my hair that barely covered the nape of my neck was dry and drab, my nose didn’t match my face, my body was short and so noticeably disproportionate, and i understood why i had just been laughed at by a boy that i had an innocent crush on.

i didn’t look like the girls he desired. not even close.

and i felt that i deserved to be shunned for it.

for years, i tried everything to make myself look like those girls. at the time, i didn’t even consider that i had fallen victim to a false narrative created by an artificial world. i didn’t consider myself a victim at all- i thought i was the perpetrator. in my eyes, i was willingly choosing to exist as a member of society, but doing nothing to be accepted by it. i must’ve been doing something wrong to look and feel the way i did, and the blame fell completely on me. the only solution to my demise was to try harder in any and every way i could.

i started exercising weekly, which turned to daily, which turned to an obsession. i restricted how much and what kinds of foods i ate adamantly, tracking every calorie and pound gained and lost. i bought new clothes, colored my hair, started wearing makeup more often, and stared at myself in the mirror everyday until i saw some kind of change. to no one’s surprise, the toxicity of this endless cycle presents to you no change at all.

i was being told i looked the best i ever had, and yet, i was completely miserable.

the wish to be desired was eating at me from the inside out. and still it seemed that no matter the efforts i put forward, the less desirable i became.

and even if physical changes were occurring, my perception of myself certainly didn’t. in fact, it continued to plummet. and it never stopped until i woke the fuck up.

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i wish i could say there was an answer to this age-old issue. but something like this will always stick around, reappearing in different formats, wearing different disguises, and targeting larger crowds. beauty standards will always exist; but i believe we’re wise enough to personally cast them out.

as unique individuals, we are not supposed to look like carbon copies of one another. we are not built to withstand the stress of achieving perfection. we aren’t meant to be more attractive than the person next to us. we’re just meant to be.

post-5 years of believing that i was ugly, i no longer believe that to be true. admittedly, i just needed to wait a little bit to blossom into my features and appreciate them for what they naturally are (thank you ever so kindly, mom). even now when i look back at my old photos, i now understand i was unnecessarily hard on myself. when i look at her now, i still see beauty, and happiness, and youth.

i think of what i consider attraction to be, and a small percent of it revolves around looks. i prefer it that way. i mean… regardless of gender, have you known or been with someone superficial? it’s a never-ending cycle of degradation, irritation, and boredom. i do not want to be or be with a status symbol. i don’t want to be anything but unapologetically myself.

i find beauty in the mind and soul, and most importantly in authenticity. anytime i’ve fallen head over heels for someone, it’s been over the most non-traditional things. the way they laugh. the way their eyes light up when they talk about something they’re passionate about. the stories that make them who they are. yet still, i fret over the way i look or if i’ve gained a few pounds or if i have a singular pimple on my forehead. i probably always will, but age and experience have taught me that being human doesn’t make me any less beautiful. and above all else, solely a man’s take on my level of attractiveness will probably never amount to the true meaning of my beauty.

i conducted a small study to prove a point.

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i asked 4 friends who know me better than myself sometimes what they believed made me pretty, and then what they thought made them pretty. i am going to keep their names anonymous so they don’t dropkick me, but these are the conversations in full, nothing redacted, nothing removed.

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conversation #1:

what do you think makes me pretty?

tits

that goes exactly against the point i was trying to make thanks a lot.

are we talking physical only pretty or in general pretty

anything

and then to follow up, what do you think makes you pretty?

physically, you’re just stunning but personally you care about making life fun for yourself and the ones you love

what makes me pretty is my tits

i can’t with you LMFAO

it highlights my pretty which is my sense of humor

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friend 1 brought up something that i didn’t even consider to be an alluring trait of mine, about how i make life fun. that’s just something that makes me me.

she’s also correct in the sense that she’s one of the funniest people i know. she’s got a warped sense of humor that never fails to almost bring us to tears, and that’s what makes her unapologetically her. but she failed to mention about a thousand other things that i see and know from my point of view.

she is, truthfully and unbiased, one of the most beautiful people i know, physically and internally. she’s like the lovechild of the sun god and persephone. she turns heads anywhere we go and holds herself with such grace and confidence. she’s the kind of person who would stop mid-traffic on the highway to let a bird scuttle across and cry for hours if she encountered roadkill. she’ll remember that i mentioned i wanted to try chapaguri noodles once and buy them for me on a whim, or bring things that make me happy when i have a dream that my ex is engaged. she compliments strangers on nights out and treats everyone with kindness. that’s something rare- a kind of beauty that exists only in those who are good and see beauty everywhere.

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conversation #2 (a group chat consisting of two friends):

poll question for my substack

what do you think makes me pretty

and what do you think makes you pretty

i think you are very traditionally beautiful but honestly you have such a unique way of carrying yourself you have confidence and intelligence and it shines through

uhhhh plead the fifth on the second one

no

answer it.

the problem is i don’t think i’m pretty i think i am a lot of amazing wonderful things but pretty is not something i’ve ever thought of myself as really

i think i’m smart and funny and interesting but pretty ehhh and that’s okay because i don’t have to be.

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friend 2 makes a great point; you don’t have to be pretty. no one does. and i’d go to my grave swearing that i’m not how she describes me, but what good would it do? maybe it’s time to start believing it.

and she’s correct. she is amazing and funny and smart and interesting but she’s also wildly stubborn and blind sometimes.

what she must not know is that she has the brightest and biggest brown eyes that gleam in front of anyone who is lucky enough to see them. she’s got the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen and i’d be lying if i said i’ve never intentionally tried to make her laugh just so i could see it! she’s also got a way of painting pictures with words that i aspire to emanate, but also accept that i won’t because that’s what makes her uniquely her. she’s coined the sweetest AND the coolest girl in town, and anyone who knows her would agree with everything i’m saying.

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(cont. friend 3)

both very unique and also classically beautiful features which is truly a stellar combination but it also goes beyond that in the way that you carry yourself too the confidence is half the battle. i also love the way you choose to style urself with clothes and make up! i think it builds into the confidence and also is a fun expression of you

and what about you, what makes you pretty?

[no response]

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for one, this is one of the most generous explanations of what makes me pretty and it rings true to who i am. although, the confidence is not truly confident half the time.

friend 3 chose not to answer the follow-up question, so i’m going to answer it for her.

i recently took engagement photos of her and her partner, and i was in awe by how pretty she was; not only that, but her aura shined bright alongside the one who knows her beauty to its fullest. it’s a privilege to be able to witness beauty shown through the lens of love. i’m quite envious of the way her hair always manages to suit her perfectly, regardless of the cut and color. she’s got style that outlives any age, she absolutely bodies every outfit she puts together, and her presence controls the room anywhere she goes. not only that, but she’s ivy league smart. incredibly hot.

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conversation #3:

poll question for my substack

what do you think makes me pretty.

physical or qualitative

any, whatever first comes to mind

what are the options

bro that defeats the point

well

no options, just your perception

you’re pretty conventionally attractive

you have a natural beauty to you which is just

genes

but you also have trained beauty

that comes from putting work into like

learning what makes you look good and etc

you also have a unique outlook that allows you to perceive the world very fully

you are very you

there is an almost like

solidity in the things that make you you

like a sureness

the beauty you see in the world is reflected within you

that’s so kind of you

thank you

*crying emoji*

follow up question

what do you think makes you pretty?

tf

answer it

you tell me

no you tell me

this is all about your perception

i don’t want to

sigh

why

my tattoos

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friend 4 described me in a way i wouldn’t understand unless i was analyzing myself from outside of my body. even then, i couldn't fully understand it. i do see beauty in everything, and that allows me to void it, in a way. i don’t really see beauty anymore; i feel it and interpret it.

but once again, friend 4 is a tough case to pull anything out of. sure, his tattoos are really neat. he’s got a way of expressing his aesthetic through artistic matters which distinctly defines him. in a multitude of ways, his energy attracts even more energy. he’s the life of the party, regardless of if he’s tired or had a hard day. he includes everyone in everything and never lets a person feel left out. he’s considerate, thoughtful, and very caring. his passions and opinions are plastered on his forehead in the best way possible, and there’s so many things to learn through him. and as his canonic sister, i’ll admit he is handsome through gritted teeth.

i don’t feel pretty, he says.

i’m starting to think that’s a universal feeling.

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the gorgeous girl on the bus who you catch a glimpse of as the sun frames her face. the handsome guy that you think is out of your league. the person you’ve held high on a pedestal for ages. the influencer who receives free products and has a flock of people who’d kill to be them or be with them. the celebrity who’s blown half of their income on surgical procedures to look 10 years younger, short-term. i can guarantee they don’t feel pretty sometimes, depending on the time of day or what people tell them or what kind of beauty standards define the era they live in.

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yes, pretty is never going to be pretty enough.

but by who’s definition?

before you classify yourself as something that is entirely untrue, answer the question first.

a.r.