I’m looking in the mirror, and I’m not entirely sure who I see. The reflection looking back at me looks neither like the face on my Instagram feed nor does it look like the unsuccessful takes on my camera roll. This is the face that I have come to scrutinize so closely and yet it doesn’t feel like mine. The ever-changing standards of beauty have robbed me of the intimacy of my face.
Do I love the unique features of my face because it makes my face mine? Or do I hate them because they don’t conform to the standard of beauty set by the outside society comprised of adverts, models and attitudes? Do I even have an opinion on this? Or are my feelings towards my appearance merely puppets controlled by the external validation and opinion of the media which I consume? My self-worth is at the mercy of the ever-transient ideals of society.
I’m breaking up with the beauty myth, breaking my self-worth free of the shackles of appearances and beauty. I want my self-worth to be based on my actions and skills as a person. I’m trying to exchange the time that I would spend trying to attain the unattainable with instead trying to refine and develop my craft, knowledge and empathy for others.
It’s impossible to enjoy the pleasures of experimentation with fashion and appearance if it’s not liberated from the need to adhere to being beautiful in the eyes of society. The imprint left by creating and being a kind person is far more permanent and impactful than that of the naturally ‘degenerative’ and ephemeral nature of our appearances. The standard of beauty can change in an instant and so I feel like I’m only doing myself a disservice if I continue to base my self-worth wholly on the validation that I may receive for conforming to the shifting ideals of beauty – what will I have to base my self-esteem on when it becomes almost physically impossible for me to keep up?
I’ve never been good at maths, yet since Instagram became a daily routine within my life the constant monitoring of little red hearts and comments on my appearance made me into a statistical expert. Over the years it has ingrained a very specific message into my mind – that the highly-contrived appearance of myself is far more worthy of appraisal than my creative craft and input. No matter how much this contrived and artificial version of my external self somewhat appeals to the beauty ideals, the reflections in the mirror which I see at every other moment – whether that be first thing in the morning, when I’m ill, sad or bloated – are far from any beauty ideal I’ve ever seen on social media, magazines or adverts.
I’m left not knowing who I really am after years of constructing my life around trying to adhere to the impossible standard that has been set. There are clothes in my wardrobe that I don’t feel comfortable in yet feel compelled to wear because somewhere down the line I’ve been fed the message that they will make me attractive. There are clothes that absolutely captivate my excitement, yet I have not brought or feel reluctant to wear because again, at some point I’ve been fed unconscious messages that these clothes do not appeal to the idea of success which has been inextricably intertwined with attractiveness.
The polarisation between the things which truly appeal to me and the messages which I receive from society is making me unhappy, it makes me feel as though I don’t know myself because I’m entangled between the two. For years I’ve starved and mistreated my body and mind trying to cross a finish line that is just out of my reach – and to win what? A trophy that could be taken away at a moment’s notice? It’s not ridiculous to want to feel good within yourself and to feel beautiful, but it is ridiculous to be made to feel that success is so closely equated to a measure of attractiveness.
I’ve found the process of trying to unlearn the ingrained messages that I’ve received over the years so difficult, but it has been made easier by having something which I’m passionate about to work on. I’m so fortunate to have access to books that explain the social structures behind why our society is this way, making sense of how all this craziness came to be has been essential in untangling my own relationship with it. (Naomi Wolf’s ‘The Beauty Myth’ is an excellent place to start). During this entire process, I’ve felt so much shame about how superficial I felt it is that I’ve put validation from others on such a high pedestal, but the truth of the matter is that to be validated and recognised is very much a human need given that we’re social creatures.
I feel so hesitant to even be writing this piece, never mind publish it online. I can’t deny that I worry that it will come across as me preaching nonsense and turn people away from understanding some of their own personal woes. I am also aware that I might be unaware of how damaging my words could be – this comes after re-reading a piece a wrote whilst still in the midst of recovering from disordered eating and only in hindsight realising that I was still gripped by an unhealthy mindset. Either way, it feels so cathartic to hold myself to account and put the conflict of this nature versus nurture into words.
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