Truly Beautiful – Beauty in Its Rarity Pleases the Eye While Touching the Heart
I am so disappointed when women feel the need to change their overall appearance to suit a judgmental and highly competitive world where the standards of feminine beauty are constantly pursued.
It starts with, for example; one woman paying thousands of dollars for breast augmentation and the next woman feels like she no longer measures up and has to get them too, which creates a vicious cycle of one-upmanship, even if women don’t realize that’s what they’re doing.
I recall reading a blog where one woman showed off her new gem’s to adoring men who praised her with back handed compliments by telling her that she was attractive before but now she was ‘hot.’
Did they really think that they were complimenting her? All I could think was that they were feeding her low self-esteem by letting her know that in order to achieve said ‘hotness,’ she had to dish out nearly 5 grand and undergo painful surgery to achieve a phony ideal of beauty. I was disgusted…not with her, because I understand the incredible pressures women face, but with the shallowness of those judging outward beauty in such superficial ways.
And speaking of beauty…it’s an overused denomination, much like love is. Beauty is undeniably in the eye of the beholder but if we’re truly honest, genuinely beautiful people – the ones that take our breath away – are rare, while attractive people abound and most common of all are the rest of us who are merely average.
I can recall two instances where I was in awe of another woman’s beauty. One time occurred in 1991 when I was a waitress at a steak house. A woman of obvious African and Caucasian decent was seated with her daughter in a booth. The woman was tall, slender, dressed in a beautiful white suit and had her hair swept up in an elegant updo. Her nails were natural, free of polish and she wore minimal make-up but had the most incredible lashes. Her eyes were a dark brown and her skin was luminous. The way she treated her daughter with such tenderness was especially moving, and her daughter was just as lovely as her mom. Aside from being elegantly gorgeous, she was far and away the classiest woman I have ever laid eyes upon.
The other instance occurred in December 1994. My husband and I were at a Christmas piano concert and during intermission I nearly ran into an arresting woman of Asian decent; Polynesian I presume.
Her black hair was waist length, curled, with slight auburn highlights and her skin was porcelain. She had well defined cheekbones and when she extended a courteous smile towards me she revealed even greater radiance. She had the best posture I have seen on anyone and she possessed an air of confidence that was unsurpassed, without being mean or arrogant. At that time I felt small and insignificant just by standing next to her and no other person has ever made me feel so self-conscious about my own appearance just because theirs was so superior.
Crossing paths with those two compelling women seem like yesterday. They were beautiful; atypical, and as I’ve seen hundreds of attractive people since then, no one else has unknowingly left their image in my memory where I can recall them so easily.
And yet, I keep handing out the beautiful compliment. It’s not that I’m lying or patronizing because attractive people are definitely pretty, it’s just that I, like most others, devalue the word because I say it so often. I’ve repeatedly alleged that compliments should be as special and unique as the person they’re aimed at and before getting on my soapbox, perhaps I should heed my own advice.
I also wish that for simply being ourselves, in the unique physical canvas God created us to be, we can all be comfortable in our own skin without feeling as if we constantly need to measure up to perpetual standards, which are harder and harder to meet and exacerbate feelings of inferiority.
