Long lost works of art

I’m happy with myself and what I look like.  I know this is something that a lot of girls struggle with, and believe me I did, but I’m finally at a point in my life where I’m happy and satisfied with my body and my looks in general.  I think I’m pretty.  I think I’m fit. Maybe this is arrogant, but I’d rather risk that than having to add one more thing to a list of insecurities.  I wish I could say that feeling this way about myself gives me peace, but unfortunately it doesn’t.  Here’s the truth.

Maybe this isn’t a common problem, but it’s a feeling I get a lot now.  I’ll be hanging around my room, taking a break from studying and I’ll look in the mirror and think “wow, this is an especially pretty moment for me.” You know those moments.  When your hair falls in just the right way and your makeup is the perfect medium between fresh and smudgy and your face isn’t puffy or blotchy or any of the annoying things that can go wrong.  It’s perfect. 

This sounds like a great thing right? It’s not that simple.  I’m not happy in these moments.  In fact I’m downright sad. 

Why is that?  Because I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of disappointment that no one is there to see me and appreciate me then.  I feel like a great work of art that’s been forgotten in a lonely corner of someone’s attic.  I feel like that moment is wasted because it hasn’t been witnesses by someone else, mainly a guy someone else and mainly Samuel Whiskers lately. 

But when you get down to it, a Rafael is still a Rafael and a beautiful, priceless work whether someone is there to look at it or not.  So why do I feel so incomplete when I’m alone?  I think I may have just answered my own question.  Price. 

Beauty is one thing.  Value is another.  In these moments I think I’m looking for an appraisal.  Somehow I have bought into the notion that the only value of being pretty is so other people will desire you.  It turns out that in the end I am my own biggest objectifier.

So how can I fight this feeling? I don’t know, but there is one time when I’m looking at myself in a mirror and I’m happy with what I see and I don’t care if anyone sees me at all.  It’s when I’m working out.  Maybe it’s just because I don’t really want people to see me sweaty and with my ponytail askew, but I think the real reason is that when I’m at the gym I’m focused on the process of being healthier, happier and getting to my ideal bod.  Looking in the mirror at these times is a validation that my hard work really is paying off and I realize that it’s worth a lot because god knows I’m expending the effort to get there during these moments.

So maybe when I look in the mirror I need to think about what went into getting where I’m at and not who will be there to like me when I’m actually there.  Honestly I really have no idea if this will work or what else I can do, but at least I’ve recognized I have a problem now, and isn’t that always the first step?

-Cottontail