cocaine model

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I cannot agree more with this statement.

As someone with extreme body image issues that stem from deep-rooted causes, I was susceptible to outlandish beauty standards. I must preface this, both to whoever reads this and to my future self—this is my mentality right now, as the 29-year-old woman I am.

Beauty was something I simply sought in validation from those around me. I'm a MySpace girly. I grew up in the peak selfie era. I own the Kim Kardashian selfie book. I took the photos, plumped up my bra, and sucked in my stomach to prove I was this beautiful girl. Then I would stare at the screen, waiting for the likes to come in. Validation, validation, validation—please validate that the uncomfortable pose is worth it.

But I never felt truly beautiful.

I searched for it in all of my romantic relationships. I see how he looks at girls who dress this way, I hear how he talks about this celebrity, I saw his search history about a specific genre of adult content. I looked into doctors to help me fit the mold—literally. I starved myself because I felt like he had an attachment to his ex, and I noticed she’s really skinny. I began wearing revealing clothing because he was very into lace. I dyed my hair because it was an easy way to mirror the girls he had wandering eyes for. I worked out intensely when BBLs were too expensive and very dangerous at the time. I did all of it, and soon, I became the girl everyone turned to look at when I walked into a room. I became the girl who knew she could get free drinks all night with just the right outfit and just the right amount of eye contact.

But I still sought validation.

It's taken a very painful journey to fully grasp the understanding that I didn’t feel beautiful because none of that was me. It was a fabricated version I threw at the world for acceptance. It was the version the world said was beauty, and the men who liked it (figuratively and literally) were extremely lost in themselves, searching for something they also were missing. The pointless conversations led me only to feel empty and yearning for more. The instant gratification could no longer cut it for me.

After years of therapy, solo processing, tears, and heartbreak, I can recognize that beauty is not defined by you, or him, or likes, or comments, or compliments. The acceptance I had been seeking was that of my own—the standards I've set for myself. Today, more than ever, I have found myself exploring what beauty means to me now. Now that I removed the likes from my Instagram. Now that I don’t post the selfie. Now that I don’t have a romantic relationship to set a mold. Now that I no longer hand my number out to just any guy with smooth words at the bar. Now that I have no outside sources to give me validation, what makes me feel beautiful?

Beauty is the way my body moves during difficult workouts. Beauty is the way my face lights up when I talk about how close I feel to God. Beauty is the concentration I display when I am painting. Beauty is the tears I shed when I see cows and goats eating peacefully in long fields of farmland. Beauty is the love I pour into every single person I come across. Beauty is the desire I have to never stop learning. Beauty is the way I dance to loud music, surrounded by my friends. Beauty is the sun hitting my face on long morning walks with music blasting in my ears. Beauty is the crazy way my teeth show when I laugh at something so hilarious.

And beauty can also be the way the Skims dress fits the body I worked so hard to keep healthy. Beauty can be the way my eyes become mysterious when I wing my liner a certain way. Beauty can be the gorgeous natural breasts gifted by my mama. Beauty can be the luscious lips I pay for once a year. Beauty can be the way my hair can be shaped and formed to complement my outfits.

Beauty is not linear. But today, this is beauty to me.

And one day, beauty will look like stretch marks after giving birth, and throw-up displayed on my shirts.

And the next day, it may look like me in a beautiful dress for a night out with my beautiful life partner.

Set your own standards.