Beauty. It’s in the Eye of the Beholder
Shared by dodgysurfer
I recently replied to a post here about beauty. I had no intention of being critical in any way but I wrote with my heart because the post prompted feelings that were a mix of regret and guilt.
The post features a stunningly beautiful woman and waxes lyrically of her complete perfection. While I can only agree based on the picture and words, it reminded me of how we judge books by their covers before reading the content.
And it reminded me of the values society and media place upon appearance and what that does to us as a society and individually.
And it reminded me of how I failed to give my partners in love the confidence that they fulfilled those values, or more realistic values, because I didn’t tell them enough.
Ok, specifically my wife.
But while I think about these ‘values’ of beauty, appearance and so on, and sticking with a purely aesthetic theme here and ignoring all the more important values that I may have failed to reinforce confidence in, what I think of in terms of beauty now, the visual memories that really stick in my mind, are much more about the person than the outer shell, even though they are visual memories primarily.
The things that appear in my mind are things like the wide expanse of soft forehead I loved to gently kiss.
The rosy cheeked cold Eskimo face surrounded by thick fur hood that I would hold in my hands and warm against my cheeks.
The long black hair that framed her face.
The eyes that went from brown to orange when you got really close in the light.
The soft lips that were like kissing a velvet covered cloud.
The trembling bottom lip that sometimes looked like that of a lost child about to cry.
Her sleeping face and form.
Her bum as she wiggled it bare at me from the bedroom window one day with that cheeky giggle.
Most of us don’t fall into the mould that modern media creates icons of beauty from for us to aspire to be like, leaving many of us to suffer a lifetime of feeling crap about how we look. (Personally I’m way past caring myself, but it’s not easy for women).
But to be honest, and my point in this context, is that the images of our loved ones that stay with us, that we think of as beautiful, are nothing like the images we are told we should value as beauty.
They’re things that mean something more to us.
Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.
I’m as guilty and as foolish as anyone when it comes to realising this. That’s why I’m getting divorced. I got my values all mixed up.
For love’s sake, tell your loved ones they are beautiful. Show them if you can’t tell them.
Don’t be like me. Sorry.
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