Sudden Insecurities
A few weeks ago, I was getting frustrated with my hair. Because if my widow’s peak, my hair always
falls in my face. I’ve tried every
trend that you can think of, but I always end up in the same old
ponytail/messy bun combo.
When I was a child, my mom told me that I had a widow’s peak- a pointed gathering on my hairline in the middle of my forehead. She said that her mother had one, too. Since I didn’t have the chance to meet my grandmother, I felt special. A small part of her was given to me, and it was a trait that not many people had.
In my current frustration over my hair, I did what any normal woman in need of a quick beauty fix would do- I went to Pinterest. When I searched for “widow’s peak hairstyles” all I found were videos of women shaving and plucking out their hair to have a straight hairline.
I was so angry.
But that anger begged the question: Why was I suddenly disgusted with something I’ve always loved about my body? Why was I being told that I should change it in order to have “good hair”?
This isn’t the only part of my body I’ve grown to dislike due to our culture’s "need for perfection" epidemic.
Until Kylie Jenner started talking about how her thin lips were “ugly” and got lip filler trends spreading like wildfire, I didn’t mind my lips. Now, I’m self conscious about how my upper lip disappears when I smile.
My skin always got compliments as a child. It was clear and bright with hardly any blemishes. Now, I’ve been so desperate to be tan like Victoria’s Secret models that I’ve tried spray tan, tanning lotion, and even a tanning bed.
I was always content with my makeup and nail routine in high school. I had kept it simple, and would often go au naturel. Once makeup tutorials and nail design videos started popping up on my Instagram feed, I felt an overwhelming sense of unworthiness. I would never be talented enough, pretty enough, sexy enough to pull off these feats of beauty, no matter how hard I tried.
Why am I suddenly so aware of my quirks and faults? It’s because we live in a world where we cannot have imperfections. We use filters and strategically placed body parts to show the world what it wants to see. We compare ourselves to our very own friends, the people we know in real life, as well as the "celebrities" who get paid to look good on social media. We must buff and polish away the unwanted to reveal who we want to be, who this culture tells us to be.
I get so caught up in how the world wants me to be perfect. I want to have a perfect body, a perfect Instagram game, a perfect aesthetic in my perfect apartment, a perfect Martha Stewart-worthy sense of hospitality...
But now, I'm just exhausted.
When I was a child, my mom told me that I had a widow’s peak- a pointed gathering on my hairline in the middle of my forehead. She said that her mother had one, too. Since I didn’t have the chance to meet my grandmother, I felt special. A small part of her was given to me, and it was a trait that not many people had.
In my current frustration over my hair, I did what any normal woman in need of a quick beauty fix would do- I went to Pinterest. When I searched for “widow’s peak hairstyles” all I found were videos of women shaving and plucking out their hair to have a straight hairline.
I was so angry.
But that anger begged the question: Why was I suddenly disgusted with something I’ve always loved about my body? Why was I being told that I should change it in order to have “good hair”?
This isn’t the only part of my body I’ve grown to dislike due to our culture’s "need for perfection" epidemic.
Until Kylie Jenner started talking about how her thin lips were “ugly” and got lip filler trends spreading like wildfire, I didn’t mind my lips. Now, I’m self conscious about how my upper lip disappears when I smile.
My skin always got compliments as a child. It was clear and bright with hardly any blemishes. Now, I’ve been so desperate to be tan like Victoria’s Secret models that I’ve tried spray tan, tanning lotion, and even a tanning bed.
I was always content with my makeup and nail routine in high school. I had kept it simple, and would often go au naturel. Once makeup tutorials and nail design videos started popping up on my Instagram feed, I felt an overwhelming sense of unworthiness. I would never be talented enough, pretty enough, sexy enough to pull off these feats of beauty, no matter how hard I tried.
Why am I suddenly so aware of my quirks and faults? It’s because we live in a world where we cannot have imperfections. We use filters and strategically placed body parts to show the world what it wants to see. We compare ourselves to our very own friends, the people we know in real life, as well as the "celebrities" who get paid to look good on social media. We must buff and polish away the unwanted to reveal who we want to be, who this culture tells us to be.
I get so caught up in how the world wants me to be perfect. I want to have a perfect body, a perfect Instagram game, a perfect aesthetic in my perfect apartment, a perfect Martha Stewart-worthy sense of hospitality...
But now, I'm just exhausted.
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