[re]considering beauty

"The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It's the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows and the beauty of a woman only grows with passing years."

--Audrey Hepburn

I have nothing new to say about beauty, only what I've experienced. Nothing I say will be all that special and certainly many women have overcome far more than I. I don't have a story about learning to love myself despite missing limbs or an eating disorder that took hold of my life or any other heart-wrenching story about being at odds with the cultural values of beauty. I only have my experience and my belief that a conversation about beauty is a conversation worth having.

March, 2009: Very short hair

In January of 2009, I chopped off 13 inches of hair. It was an odd decision, considering that I was always told, "Long hair is pretty hair." I believed it too. But, in January of 2009, I was not quite myself. In January of 2009, I described myself frequently as a "ball of mess." In that ball was wrapped up joylessness, darkness, fears of failure and feelings of unworthiness and a complete inability to see God as Himself, or myself as the woman I was. I felt ugly, body and soul, and I hated the way I defined myself. IAll this coming from a girl who received compliments, whose parents lavished praise, who had good eyebrows and a body that was just the right size. My insecurities were normal and because of that, they were normalized. But I hated that I felt the need for hair--dead follicles--to make me feel beautiful. I cut it all off, wondering and hoping if a detachment from what the world said I should be would make me feel more like the me that I wanted to be. I felt empowered, holding years worth of growing and striving in my hands. I saw it as a distinguishing moment, a fresh start, as if I was cutting off all that was dead within me. 

With a set of scissors, I transformed from a cultural image of femininity to an undefined woman. There was struggle that came along with it. One moment, confident in all that I was without hair, the next, trying to convince the world that I was still what they wanted: beautiful, worthy, valuable, feminine, a woman. Particularly helpful were comments from the people in my life, openly showing their disapproval: "Don't you miss it?," "I just like long hair so much better," or, my personal favorite: "Just don't become a lesbian, okay?"

In those moments, I was sad. I was sad for the urge that we all feel to look like the girls in magazines; sad for the urge to adjust our own temple of expression to the idea of beauty that the world holds. I was sad that having short hair took "bravery," that we were all admitting to hiding behind pretty and long locks. I was sad for the ease with which I let statements like that make me feel ugly (or for feeling ugly independent of statements of disapproval), for wondering if a man would ever pay attention to me (especially on a college campus), sad that sexuality was wrapped up in "beauty," sad for feeling like something was missing that went beyond thirteen inches of hair.

But in that time, on days when I struggled with bobby-pins or my anxiety-induced weight fluctuation, when I compared myself to the "perfect" girl to my left in Calculus or when I cried because I looked like a boy, all that was dead within me was brought back to life. Probably not because I cut off my hair, but because I admitted defeat and gave up control. It was a fast of sorts: I gave up trying and striving, and my attention was lovingly refocused on more important things. During that time, I found myself belonging to community, being accepted for what my heart could bring, discovering that I enjoyed making art, learning to love, traveling to Jamaica, finding healing from anxiety, finally being honest with myself. During that time, I became who I wanted to be, even without hair. That fact alone made me feel more beautiful than any curls or extra inches ever could.

I say all of this to let you know that I understand the struggle to feel beautiful. I understand that the issue of beauty has more wrapped up inside of it: self-expression, acceptance, worthiness, security; at the same time, it brings us to striving, to wasted time in front of a mirror, time that could be spent doing anything else. I understand the tension and allure of being beautiful. Beauty is a gift from God, but perfectionism is not. Beauty is a gift from God, but He cares more about what you're doing to bring life to the world than what shirt you're wearing. Beauty is a gift from God, but He'd rather see you learn how to love than learn how to apply eye make-up perfectly. He'd rather you grow your wisdom and knowledge of Him than your hair and He has a greater purpose for your life than trying to meet an impossible standard of beauty. And even knowing this and finding relief in the truth of it, I still find myself saying, "I just want to look cute today and I don't think that God finds it wrong." I really, truly don't. The issue of beauty is complex. 

magik Beauty Store

Over three years, my hair has grown back. It's long and healthy and I can curl it whenever I want. I love that. Occasionally, I find myself looking to it for affirmation. There is a deeper concern, though, because not everybody struggles with the tension of beauty. Not everybody believes in a God who redefines it; they simply accept what the world says as ultimate truth. I work with young men and women who already have their own ideas of beauty, and it doesn't stop with thirteen year olds. Girls want the perfect eyebrow shape, dark hair and light eyes. [In very uncomfortable interactions, they tell me each day that they'd trade their dark and "boring" eyes for my light eyes. They don't know that I once, in a very awkward time in life, hated my eye color and wore blue contacts because blue eyes were "prettier."] Girls will let no emotion show on their faces because they don't want the laugh or worry lines, or they will spend an entire day at school with a mirror hidden in their purse, applying and reapplying mascara. And boys want the typical "hot girl," a look that no thirteen year old girl (or any-age girl) can ever achieve (nor should they feel forced to spend their time trying). These cultural ideals are passed along through generations so that we learn to strive after them, but we are forgetting to train our kids, or retrain ourselves, to care about what beauty truly is.

Maybe because we still don't know. 

We are forgetting to tell ourselves that an unforgiving heart is uglier than any set of bushy eyebrows.

We refuse to accept that hatred shows itself on a person's face and it is not a wonderful thing to behold.

That a mouth full of criticism is more unattractive than laugh lines or cellulite. 

That short hair, even a pixie cut, is more attractive than a mean spirit on any day of the week. 

That clothes, hair and makeup are accessories (fun ones at that!), but never the defining feature of a person.

No one tells us that unique self-expression is beautiful. Very few people grow up aware of the freedom  and beauty of being different, living to different standards.

We forget that by the standards of models or magazines, you could be completely perfect, but if you lack love, 

you are nothing. 

The mentor in me comes out to say this:

Many old, wise people have said "there is more to beauty than what meets the eye." It's true, and I want the world to believe it. So strive for beauty, look cute doing it, but please, I'm begging you, do it in the ways that matter. Don't lose sight of your value, your true identity, or the person that you want to be at the end of the day or the end of your life. The world is an ugly enough place on its own. 

Take care of the dead inside of you to find yourself as an embodiment of what is truly beautiful.

For further reading about beauty:

Good Women Project

The Resurgence: What is Beautiful?

Wonderfully Made

"Sometimes, people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are."

--Marcus Zuzak