Mirror, Mirror...

“You are fine
You’re filthy cute
And baby you know it”

Prince once claimed that he wrote those lyrics (from the song ‘Cream’) while looking in the mirror, and I think that’s narcissistically divine. You can call it vanity; I call it convinced. I do not want this entry to be a repetition of my prior one of what justified vanity allows; contrarily, I want to talk about arriving at the point for one to recognize and embrace your own vanity without a second motion.

I am a beautiful woman.

I wonder how many of you showed contempt upon reading that. How many of you are now thinking that I consider myself too highly? Are you a little angry? You’ll get over it. You know what boggles my mind? Women getting mad at other women upon sight. You’ve never talked to that woman, know nothing about her, but instantaneously, her looks just anger you?

WHAT. THE. HELL?

I’ve witnessed some dumb shite throughout my life, and this is definitely in the top. I think we women that are victims to this irrational, insecure epidemic should get a medal of valor. Seriously. We should be uplifted for the ability to inspire wrath in strangers from our mere presence. It takes a certain amount of fortitude to endure being perceived as stupid/unevolved or bitchy before you even open your mouth.

Jokes aside, women. C’mon now. I recognize that body language speaks bounds and that there are plenty of bitchy gorgeous women in the world. But why allow them to steal your joy? Why give them the pleasure of hating them? You’ll spend hours of your time demeaning them while you’re not even a thought in their minds. We have got to stop giving other people power over us.

I’ve been called beautiful/pretty for the majority of my life. I’ve also been called ugly several times. I’ve had potential modeling clients point out every flaw on my body, what needs to be changed. I’m perfect for some campaigns, not for others. And you know what? I still look in the mirror and am impressed with what I see. I once had a guy go out of his way to tell me how unattractive he found me. He felt I needed to be humbled b/c everyone else was telling me the exact opposite. What he failed to realize is that I appreciate compliments and comments alike, but neither affect my self-esteem. Why? Because it’s MY esteem. When you allow someone else to define what’s beauty for you, you allow them to define you. What makes them an authority?

Beauty is subjective. There is no universal standard. What’s appealing in Russia may not be appealing in Ecuador. The Top 100 in entertainment mediums changes yearly. Models are some of the most sickeningly insecure women in existence solely because they allow their value to be determined by others. One man may find you heart-stoppingly beautiful; the next merely shrugs. Who gives a fuck about any of this? Confucius said, “Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.” Therefore, acknowledge your own beauty. Convince yourself of it. Kiss yourself in the mirror each morning and night if necessary. And pity those who are missing the ocular ability to recognize such heart-attack inducing pulchritude.

“You’re so good
Baby, there ain’t nobody better”