I've been called beautiful; it was a long time ago and, at the time, I believed the person who said it actually valued it. I'd grown up with little self-confidence and didn't think of myself as beautiful so hearing and believing it might be true felt nice. There was a problem though.
The person who had said those words with such passion, words I believed, didn't show with actions that the beauty they spoke of was valued. Instead, I was treated poorly: Demeaned, abused and made to feel like a sub-standard person - I hated it, and myself - but after a time simply accepted it and felt unworthy of anything light, bright and beautiful. I felt ugly despite the hollow words to the contrary I'd hear from time to time.
I wasn't ugly though, rather, the person who made me feel that way was, also insecure, selfish, lacking in self-esteem and confidence and wracked by fear he didn't have the courage to face. Instead of choosing to work on himself he chose to destroy me, my soul, and found value in doing so.
Several years ago I managed to extricate myself from that situation and spent a long while trying to understand who I really was; I had thought I knew, but during the dark years of my life I questioned it to the point of having not a single clue of who I might really be anymore. I knew, however, that I wanted to know myself, deserved to feel happy, funny, intelligent, loved, useful, valuable and...beautiful.
It's been a long journey, most of which was undertaken alone with little or no support; it's ok that things went that way though; I have myself to thank for the outcome and a better understanding of those few around me who care, and just how valuable they are to my life.
That's me in the picture above, a friend of mine took it on my phone the other day; I'm nothing special, just me. I don't want to be anything other than that though because being me, accepting who I am and feeling happy, is enough.
After the years of darkness and the resulting years of hiding myself away whilst searching for my true self I came to a decision that has endured; I'm beautiful, as a person, inside and out. I see it and even if others do not it's the fact I do that truly matters.
True beauty isn't in the eye of the beholder, in my opinion, not unless the beholder is oneself, I mean. It comes from inside a person and works its way outwardly. I believe a person needs to recognise their own beauty and rather than putting emphasis on physical aspects one should measure it differently as true beauty is about the essence of a person, the whole thing, not just a pretty face. There is only a small chance others will see a person's true beauty if the person themselves cannot see it within themselves, and let it burst forth like sunshine on a spring day.
Sometimes I look at myself closely, my physical self and inner self and mostly like what I see. I look after myself physically and emotionally and, whilst the memories and feelings of those dark years return at times, I feel light of heart, mind and soul. I feel beautiful.
Recently I met someone who, when he looks at me, makes me feel beautiful from the inside out. He has eyes that see deeply, it's like his soul reaches to mine through them. Strangely, it doesn't feel invasive. I wrote about him here.
I'm optimistic. Despite all that has occurred in my life I have the ability for optimism still. I feel beautiful and, more importantly, want to feel beautiful because I deserve it. I feel, for the first time in a very long while, that my internal self reflects the external and the same in reverse; I dare to see and feel it. I like myself and that is incredibly important; I also have the hope others like me too; one person and his intense eyes in particular.
A fictional piece written by Becca 馃挆