Beauty

You are beautiful. Yes, you. And no, I’m not saying that because of who you are on the inside. I’m saying that because the lines, curves, shapes, colors, textures that make you up are so uniquely you that your very existence causes awe. You’re not beautiful if you could just lose 5 (or 50) more pounds. You’re not beautiful except for your scars or stretch-marks. It’s not that you were beautiful when you were younger, but now you’ve got grey hair and droop here and there. You’re not beautiful despite anything. You are beautiful because you are you and no one else can be. You are beautiful because your form has been exquisitely crafted by God/the Universe/your life to be precisely what it is at this moment. The process that you are, and the billion ways in which that process will present itself from birth to death are beautiful. You are beautiful.

When you say you’ll be happier with your body if you lose just 5 more pounds, if your breasts were just a little bigger or your belly a little smaller…

When insincerity is assumed in people adoring your perfectly unique beauty because parts of you are nice but no one’s perfect…

When a reassurance of one person’s beauty is taken as dismissive of the beauty of another…

When I see all of that I feel the weight of the pressure to achieve an arbitrary “perfection” and feel a deep sadness that you can’t see the unique perfection that is inherent in your very existence.

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