Flash. She strikes a pose. Flash, flash. Walking back down the runway. Confidence. Poise. Size-two beauty. Flash forward. She cries. Shoving that all-too-familiar finger down past the rotting white teeth, into the back of her throat, deeply regretting that last bittersweet supper.

This girl stands day after day as a symbol for beauty. But what kind of a life is that? A life spent on hands and knees, trying to please that diseased idea of what beauty is. Where’s the self-worth? There’s only shame and disgust in the making. Self-annihilation for the sole purpose of being what people want her to be. To be perfect. To be “beautiful.”

The definition of beauty has been warped by the sinful desires of humanity. It’s been twisted and mangled into this monster that tells me that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never be good enough. But that’s not real beauty. A girl is beautiful when she has more than just a nice, new, size-two dress that shows off her skin and bones. A girl is beautiful when she is her own person. When she isn’t just another clone. When she has her own genuine personality. Who do you remember most? Do you remember the girl who caked on her face every day, trying her best to impress? Or do you remember the girl who walked into class each morning, always armed with a smile and an encouraging word? Kindness. That’s real beauty.

So many girls don’t understand what beauty actually is. There’s beauty in that everyone is different. We’re like one big beautiful kaleidoscope; so many different sizes, shapes, and colors. Every girl is unique, and each is made different for a specific purpose, and there’s beauty in that! And when a girl has something, or Someone, to live for, there is purpose in life, and she can see beauty in the simplest of things. Her whole life and everything in it becomes beautiful.

Why do we strive to be so average—so “perfect?” Where do we get off, anyway, pretending there is such a thing as perfect in this world? Or such a thing as normal? We are as snowflakes, all special and unique. Since that applies to everyone, wouldn’t that make everyone “normal?” And when we stray from that originality, do we not lose that normality? So in trying to become “normal,” or as so many describe as “perfect,” we really are just reaching for abnormality. Covering up my face with gobs of face-paste won’t make me beautiful, it’ll make me fake. It’s just a way to avoid reality. It’s an attempt to escape the truth. In trying to change the way I really look, I’m wearing a lie.

If beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder, then what I see as beautiful IS beautiful. I personally have come to behold the beauty of my friends, of my family, of love, of God, of originality… of myself. For I am fearfully, and wonderfully made. Therefore, my friends ARE beautiful. My family IS beautiful. Love IS beautiful, God IS beautiful, originality IS beautiful, and no matter what anyone may ever say to me, I AM BEAUTIFUL.

Everyone knows that girl. Whether she’s the girly-girl, the tom-boy, the goody-two-shoes, the band geek, the outcast, or otherwise, you know who she is. And she’s got it all wrong. So many people struggle with the concept of beauty, when it really is a very simple thing—It is as you see it. Size two, or size twelve, it doesn’t matter either way. Beauty isn’t looks. It isn’t wealth, it isn’t fame. Beauty, in a sum of two words, is anything genuine.