If beauty were comfortable, everyone would be doing it.
Posted by EmptyShell | Posted in clothing, improvement, ladies, pain, thinspo | Posted on Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I have never been beautiful.
"Cute" is one I hear a lot, or maybe "pretty" but until recently, beauty seemed something that was beyond my grasp. A concept I couldn't be bothered to understand, with rules that didn't make sense to me.
I still feel this way, most of the time. However, something fundamental has changed over the last year. My perspective has changed. For the first time, I want to bother.
But it has been a difficult journey, one which is far from over. In my youth, you could call me a tomboy in the sense I wore pants constantly, although I have no talent for sports. Maybe a nerd or geek would be more accurate. Regardless of the labels that applied to me, clothing was a needed to cover my body and protect it from the elements, nothing more. Make up was an ill-conceived inconvenience and foreign to me. My concern was for comfort and functionality.
I didn't buy clothing for over 5 years, to the point where my wardrobe was entirely made up of clothing which had been discarded by those I knew.
That's different now, but I'm floundering in a world where I am far behind the curve. Fashion is a dirty word to me, inspiring stress and panic. It speaks a strange language that I can't begin to grasp. It's full of rules that have never been fully articulated and that no one can agree on, and that more importantly, don't apply to everyone.
Except one. It's repeated over and over, every step of the way.
Beauty is pain.
Beauty is not comfortable.
Beauty is not easy.
Beauty is a sacrifice.
And truly, this must be the case if beauty is to have meaning to the world. If beauty were to be easy, comfortable, then it would not be something to strive for. It would not be special.
I can still feel the pain in my feet from dancing in heels on Friday, but it's worth it. My eyes ache, dry from contact lenses and my chest feels tight from the constricting corset and too many cigarettes. My stomach aches from hunger.
But when you look in the mirror after starving for days, after painstakingly manicuring your appearance for ages, and you see beauty, something that will turn heads when you walk into the room, inspiring envy and desire... In that moment, all the pain is worth it. When he is unable to take his eyes off of you, needing your touch, in that moment, it's all worth it. When you see your the shadow of your legs against the door, and more importantly, the light that shines between them, it's worth it.
When my work is recognized, it will all be worth it.
"Cute" is one I hear a lot, or maybe "pretty" but until recently, beauty seemed something that was beyond my grasp. A concept I couldn't be bothered to understand, with rules that didn't make sense to me.
I still feel this way, most of the time. However, something fundamental has changed over the last year. My perspective has changed. For the first time, I want to bother.
But it has been a difficult journey, one which is far from over. In my youth, you could call me a tomboy in the sense I wore pants constantly, although I have no talent for sports. Maybe a nerd or geek would be more accurate. Regardless of the labels that applied to me, clothing was a needed to cover my body and protect it from the elements, nothing more. Make up was an ill-conceived inconvenience and foreign to me. My concern was for comfort and functionality.
I didn't buy clothing for over 5 years, to the point where my wardrobe was entirely made up of clothing which had been discarded by those I knew.
That's different now, but I'm floundering in a world where I am far behind the curve. Fashion is a dirty word to me, inspiring stress and panic. It speaks a strange language that I can't begin to grasp. It's full of rules that have never been fully articulated and that no one can agree on, and that more importantly, don't apply to everyone.
Except one. It's repeated over and over, every step of the way.
Beauty is pain.
Beauty is not comfortable.
Beauty is not easy.
Beauty is a sacrifice.
And truly, this must be the case if beauty is to have meaning to the world. If beauty were to be easy, comfortable, then it would not be something to strive for. It would not be special.
I can still feel the pain in my feet from dancing in heels on Friday, but it's worth it. My eyes ache, dry from contact lenses and my chest feels tight from the constricting corset and too many cigarettes. My stomach aches from hunger.
But when you look in the mirror after starving for days, after painstakingly manicuring your appearance for ages, and you see beauty, something that will turn heads when you walk into the room, inspiring envy and desire... In that moment, all the pain is worth it. When he is unable to take his eyes off of you, needing your touch, in that moment, it's all worth it. When you see your the shadow of your legs against the door, and more importantly, the light that shines between them, it's worth it.
When my work is recognized, it will all be worth it.
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