When I glance at myself in the mirror every morning at seven o’clock, I can’t help but notice all the flaws I have. A bright-red pimple on the top of my forehead, a cluster of freckles on my cheeks, and my crooked nose plastered right in the middle of my face. I try to ignore it; I attempt to see my soft skin, pretty eyes, and straight, flowing hair. However, it’s no good–I can always picture the perfect face of a model on the front cover of the magazine article sprawled face-down on the bathroom floor.
As I brush my cream-colored teeth, questions form in my mind: Why is that model so beautiful? Why can I always see my imperfect flaws? And how can I become as beautiful as her? The truth is, I know I’ll always have that crooked nose, and no amount of make-up will ever make me look perfect. Deep down, I’m aware that nobody has that perfect body or face I always see on commercials and advertisements. That’s what annoys me–advertisers use imperfect people to make perfect images. What I see as perfection is really make-up, cameras, lights, and lots of digital repair.
Everyone longs to be beautiful, but what if beauty wasn’t defined as the newest brand of make-up or seen as the “life-changing” shampoo? Maybe beauty isn’t what’s on the covers of magazines but in fact in our hearts! If only everyone could see what it really is–beauty is love. Beauty is something not bought, but something much larger than that. Beauty is your heart.
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Wondering what this is? It’s part of a series of posts from stories and essays I wrote during school. This specific one is a paper I had to write in grade 8 about distorted beauty. And by the way, I don’t have a crooked nose nor do I have freckles. My perspective was more of a fictional perspective.