Pretty? No, thanks.
I’m not one of those girls you have to lie to just so I won’t feel bad about myself. I don’t need your affirmations. I know the truth and this post’s purpose is to state what I feel and my opinion. I’m neither hating on anyone nor fishing for compliments.
I don’t have a face straight out from a magazine or a body which suits any type of bikini. I wasn’t the little girl who messes up with her mom’s make up kit because I was a little girl who messes up with her daddy’s books. I wasn’t the baby who wishes for ribbons or dolls—I was the baby who asks for books and mini doctor kits. I prefer book stores than boutiques. I prefer spoken word videos than make up tutorials. You see, I love being behind the camera than in front of it and even though it does not matter whether I’m labelled as pretty or not, I am tired of society basing my looks for the likes I get online or the number of boys who would constantly buy me roses and chocolates every single day.
I have to admit that I often feel insecure towards other girls and there are times I just badly want to rip my face off after seeing their selfies. But you know what? It’s okay. I can be pretty. I can just purchase every elegant dress I see online but I’m choosing not to. I know I’m not cute. And no, I don’t want and I don’t need to be good looking. I mean, who needs it? It’s such a temporary thing. One day wrinkles will be shown on your face. One day all the accessories you bought and all the clothes you think are amazing will be out of the trending list. I want to be known for my words, kindness, and excellence. Because my words will forever be engraved on my paper. Because my attitude will always be reminisced during the bad times. And because my excellence will always leave a legacy and will be placed on year books. I don’t want to be remembered for what I look like. I want to be remembered for what I have accomplished.
“Pretty” is such an understatement. Don’t let anyone call you that because darling, your eyes are the oceans and your dreams are the stars. Your body is the universe and the streaks of your hair are the rays of sunshine. You are the flower that reminds everyone that despite all the bad things happening, you—a girl who radiates so much beauty from the inside, exists.
We are beautiful souls and we do not need to rely on any numerical digits to define that. I know I’m not the girl of your dreams. But I am the girl of mine. Why? Because I can be pretty, but I can also be something so much more; and I’m choosing the latter.