Soulful Noises

Beautiful

I was never told I was beautiful, and I wondered why.

One sullen morning I asked my sister why no one ever told me I was beautiful and her reply was,

"you are beautiful, but a little mascara and lipstick could never hurt."

I failed to understand why I could only acquire aesthetic appreciation when I had painted a mask onto my natural skin, but one adventurous morning, I decided to use my grandma's makeup.

When I walked out of my bedroom, everyone gasped at the sight of my beauty.

I felt a sense of satisfaction and content for I was finally beautiful!

So for my next birthday, I wanted a makeup kit.

I asked my mom to buy one for me and her retort was,

"oh honey, you have to be your own kind of beautiful."

I just couldn't comprehend what she meant, for when I attempted fathoming her words all I could wonder was how I could have my own kind of beauty when everyone used the same makeup - when we all looked the same.

On my ninth birthday, my mother bought a pink, flower-shaped makeup kit for me and at first glance a feeling of accomplishment overwhelmed me.

I had finally succumbed to the potters of society before I merely thought of battling them, for the only beauty I knew was makeup.

I never used my makeup kit.

I still wondered why my mom never used makeup or even inserted nails and I later realised  nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the very belief that she is indeed beautiful.

Without the lipstick, mascara and eyeliner people always told her how beautiful she was and that was because she was comfortable in her own skin.

Now I wish makeup was never advertised to little girls who aren't even in grade school.

I wish I had never ruled myself unworthy without the fake eyelashes, tight foreheads and falsely coloured skin.

Now that I have escaped the chains of society that held me captive until I yielded to being molded to what society saw fit, I wish women were not blinded by the illusion of red-lipstick beauty, for I know they solely accepted makeup because it is the only way they know how to mask their scars.

I wish we all learned to love our naked selves for if our entire world was blind, how many would actually love us?

I wish we had confidence makeovers instead of style makeovers because confidence is the only way to breed true beauty.

But I do not wish to be told I am beautiful anymore, for I am the best representation of beauty that I know.

Not because of how allure people may tell me my lips are, how sexy my eyes are or how adorable my smile is, but because of how unafraid I no longer am to utterly be myself.

I am beautiful.

Not because I yearned to be adorned for the beauty I never even believed I had, but I learned a flower never dreams of a bee. It blossoms and the bee approaches.

My beauty is not the kind we all see in magazines, but my blemishes, dark spots, imperfectly snub nose and long forehead define my beauty, for I have never been more liberated to permit the world to see my flawed, unfiltered and nude self.

My beauty may not be evident to everyone, but that is because my soul is too deep to explore- it is not made for the feeble that only swim in shallow seas.

I am beautiful for my thoughts.

For how my eyes smile and my soul glistens when I talk about what I love.

For how I succeed at seeing beauty in lost and frail souls and for how I acquire peace in building others.

I am beautiful.

Not because I never saw myself fit for not reaching society's standards and perception of beauty, but because I have failed and fallen but I learned to love myself unconditionally.

I am beautiful because I now know my crown isn't best fit for my head, but for my soul.

I am beautiful because I am the best kind of beautiful I can ever be; myself.

I am beautiful because you are beautiful, and the next time you're asked of all the beautiful things you know of, don't forget to name yourself.

(a/n) I hope this does speak to every level of your being because this really is me pouring my heart out.

From me to every female out there.- Mahloli Makhetha