There I stood in my bathroom, the sun setting outside my window with a gentle breeze causing the trees to sway. The sound of birds chirping and children’s laughter filled my ears. I think to myself and smile, “Wow this is beautiful.” Suddenly, I stop and turn to my right, looking in the mirror, my smile fades slowly and my dimples disappear. I see myself standing there in the mirror and I begin to question my own beauty. Thoughts begin to race through my head. “Am I beautiful?”, “Am I good enough?”, “Do people like me?”, “I wish I looked like that girl in my class.”, “I wish I had that girl’s body”. My vision begins to go blurry, I feel a warm wet feeling falling down my cheek, a tear. A single tear that holds so much feeling and emotion.

If someone were to ask me to open my purse or bookbag, they are bound to find the following items: a hairbrush, lip, gloss, perfume, concealer, or some form of make up. I carry these things because I know I need to look a certain way. I have to look presentable, otherwise people will look at me like I am a lazy person that couldn’t get ready in the morning and pull myself together. I put so much time into the way I look, and for what? So I can gain others validation? In today’s modern world, there’s a push for loving yourself and not caring what others think, but in reality, there’s a much darker side to that world. 

Society tells a person how they should look and present themselves. I open my phone and click on Instagram. The first thing I see is a beautiful blonde model wearing the tiniest bathing suit showing off her perfect smile on a beach with the sunset behind her. She has millions of likes and comments. I scroll past it and next I see a gorgeous green eyed brunette in a skimpy outfit on a boardwalk. Just like the first girl, she is also beautiful with a perfect thin body. She also has thousands of likes and comments on her post. In that moment, I feel pressure swell in my chest. My mind starts racing and thinking, “Why don’t I look like that?” I start wishing I had their life, their bodies, their hair, their smile, their likes. My thoughts begin to spiral out of control, the feeling of never being good enough engulfs my mind. That's when I decided to scroll down one last time. This is when I came across another girl. She had dirty blonde hair, acne, and she was wearing a hoodie and shorts. Unlike the other girls I had previously seen, she had comments beating her down. She had negative comments that were about how she dressed and the way she looked. I thought to myself, this girl is just as beautiful as the other girls, but for some reason, other people don’t think that. 

This dirty blonde girl didn’t meet society's standards of an attractive girl. This caused me to think that I needed to look like the blonde and brunette girl, and not the dirty blonde girl. If I look like the first two girls, maybe I would be more liked and accepted by my peers and the society we live in. Our society has created a standard for people to fit into. Male or female we are taught that if we don’t look a certain way, then we are not good enough. Society has implanted the idea into our minds that if we don’t meet its expectations, then we are nothing. 

This society has made me feel like I am not good enough, and that I will never fit into its standard. Society has made me feel like I have to fit into a tiny box that is crafted for others, not myself. The tears I cry are because of what society expects of me. Society says have clear skin, perfect hair, smile more, and be more kind. Fit into a size 0 and nothing bigger than that. Make sure your stomach is flat and your butt is big. Don’t have a big forehead or gap in your teeth. Instead, society says “Love yourself”, without truly meaning it. In my mind, that doesn’t add up. So, there I stand in my bathroom, tears rolling down my face, comparing myself to others because of the idea that society has given me, that I have to look a certain way. I look at myself in the mirror, making eye contact with the girl that stands right in front of me, not knowing what to tell her. In that moment, I want my mind to shut off, to stop thinking, to stop comparing. I want the girl in front of me to know that she is beautiful just as she is.