Beauty Queen
Have you ever truly loved yourself?
Picture this scene: a girl in her home’s bathroom. Dim lights, closed-door, 3 a.m. As everyone swims in their dreams, she swims in a pool of tears. Tears made of plummeting sadness, frustration lines her features. She looks at herself in the mirror. Another sob threatens to tear her throat apart, burst her heart out. She covers her mouth with one hand to keep her body together, arm around her core because a teenager can never be too fragile, a heart can never be too broken.
I was never ready for the age of adolescence, though it approached me nevertheless, without permission. I mean, it is when we are all trying to figure ourselves and the universe. There is so much that we do not seem to understand, and yet, we are expected to overcome it all without a guiding hand. We feel lost, no one will tell us where we are supposed to find the answers to the countless questions we have. We feel terribly lonely. How do you get over heartbreak? How am I supposed to get good grades? Am I awkward? When will things get better? Confronting the age of adolescence is a painful and agonizing rite of passage but there is also beauty in questioning and wondering, there is beauty at the edge of innocence.
Growing up, I used to think I’d trade everything to be beautiful for one day. Though I have since learned that beauty isn’t limited to appearance. Beauty isn't only skin and bones and smiles. Beauty is the courage to pursue one’s dreams and having the heart to forgive those who have caused you pain, to be unapologetically true to yourself. For the greatest part of my adolescence, I felt like an alien in my own skin. I did not understand much about the world surrounding me but I would still try my hardest to fit in. This misunderstanding led to various changes in me, and in hindsight, I wish I wouldn’t have sacrificed myself on behalf of a more socially accepted teenage girl.
I have never seen a darker void than the one that had been inside me all along, nothing frightened me more. I am oblique like the flight of birds. Intimidated, without strength, without hope — I tremble — I tremble— all over. I blossomed from the dark. I am only valid for myself.
Hating yourself is exhausting. It makes you tired all the time yet keeps you up all night, thinking, trying to forget. I found myself recklessly spending money, spending and spending on the shiniest yet most artificial of objects to try and feel beautiful, try to feel important, valuable even. It makes you want to burn all your clothes, throw away everything you own, everything you feel like you don’t deserve. It makes you want to run away, from everyone, from everything, to start over, knowing no one, being no one. Yet all you can do is lie in bed, letting life pass you by. You just lie there, with that hatred as it consumes you whole. It’s all you can feel. I chased perfection like a predator chases its prey. I tried harder, ran faster, but I always fell short. It was like grasping at nothing. The harder I tried and the faster I ran, the further I got from it. I had come to realize that I was not trapped in my body. I was trapped in other people’s perceptions of my body.
As we struggle to be authentic and brave, it’s important to remember that cruelty hurts even if the criticisms are untrue. When we put ourselves out in the world, those around us might feel threatened and go after what hurts us the most — our appearance, our lovability. Practicing authenticity may often feel like a daunting choice for risk is associated with putting your true self out in the world. However, I believe there's an even greater risk of hiding yourself and your gifts from the world. Our unexpressed ideas, opinions, and thoughts don’t just wither with time, they are prone to fester and eat away at our own conception of worthiness.
As I heard the birds chirping in rejoice for their proclaimed freedom, one morning I woke up to a feeling of unmatched nostalgia and longing for happiness. My whole life I’ve never been free. I always persecuted myself within me. I became intolerable to myself. I had undergone isolation a number of times, though it was through these periods that I was able to gather my thoughts and come to terms with who and what I was, as distinguished from all the things I’d grown thinking I was. Now, when someone or something hurts me, I will not blame myself. I will learn from my experiences and care for my own needs, unapologetically.
It’s a relief to no longer feel shame, guilt, to know what you want, to know where you stand. To love yourself is to feel whole, to feel empowered, to feel free. Do not allow anyone to rob you of your happiness. Do not allow anyone to define you, to label you, to confine you.
I’ve come to learn this the hard way: life doesn’t have to be competitive. Let go of everyone’s expectations and replace them with your own aspirations. You don’t need to compete with everyone else in the world. Relax, take a breath, and ask yourself ‘what do I want, for me, to live as I want to’ and, if that involves high ambitions, then that’s fine because you chose those ambitions based on what you desire as an individual, and not on what is expected in order to “succeed.” Love yourself. Love yourself so wholeheartedly, so violently, a love so vigorous and overwhelming and strong. You’ve worked hard to get where you are today. Don’t let anyone discredit that.
There will always be someone “better” than you in some caliber or another. There will always be someone smarter. There will always be someone more creative and well-liked, that will be out of your hands for all you can do is be true to yourself instead of chasing the version of perfection you wish to embody. There will always be someone thinner and more conventionally attractive by your own means. Someone more knowledgeable and skilled and better able to execute what you’re striving towards. So does that mean that you are inadequate? No, that doesn’t invalidate the strengths you bring to the table nor does it mean that you’ll never be the version of yourself that you want to be. That’s just part of what it means to be human. And it’s okay. No one is you. That is your power.
I'm Haneen, a 17 year old Bahraini-Moroccan. An avid reader and writer, I rejoice in writing narrative and descriptive fiction. I write in search of a path to the depths of the universe and its secrets, I write to understand myself and others. With a mind that buzzes with ideas, topics I dabble into include all of humanity, teenage-hood, feminism, and (the hopes for) world peace (we still have a shot at it!)