I recently stumbled across this beautiful picture of Audrey Hepburn. The words that accompanied the photo moved me…

Audrey Hepburn was the granddaughter of a baron, the daughter of a Nazi sympathizer, spent her teens doing ballet to secretly raise money for the dutch resistance against the Nazis, and spent her post-film career as a goodwill ambassador of #UNICEF. Winning the presidential medal of freedom for her efforts… And history still only remembers her for her looks & beauty.

Why is beauty so damn important?

When I was a teenager, I didn’t wear make up. No one ever taught me how. I didn’t even know that people thought I was pretty. I just thought it was normal for people to give me attention. I didn’t notice that ‘less beautiful’ people didn’t get the same attention. I knew that I was popular, that I had a lot of friends and that I was outgoing, but I didn’t know that those things were largely because of my looks.

Because others found me attractive, I got a lot of attention. Because guys thought I was hot, I went on a lot of dates. Because people paid attention to me, I believed that what I had to say was important. I became confident because of the attention others gave me.

When I went off to college, my roommates taught me how to ‘work’ at being pretty. They taught me how to wear makeup and how to correctly pluck my eyebrows. They helped me understand fashion and how to dress. They taught me to be aware of how I looked. I learned that I could work to be prettier. I also learned that if I wasn’t working on it, I probably didn’t look good. I discovered that my looks affected what others thought of me and how they treated me.

I enjoyed the perks of being admired by others. Men constantly offered to buy me meals (which saved me a lot of money in college). They gave me gifts and showered me with attention. I even got out of speeding tickets, that I deserved, with just a warning.

To me, being beautiful meant that I was important. It meant that I had worth. It meant that I could be confident. It was my best trait.

If I felt pretty, then I had value. If I was pretty, then I could be confident. If my makeup looked good, then I could be the life of the party. If I wore sexy clothes, then I could make friends. The problem was, and still is, I can’t be beautiful all of the time. Sometimes I get zits (like every month). Sometimes my hair looks bad. Sometimes I don’t like what I’m wearing. Sometimes I ugly cry. Sometimes…okay, every time… I go for a run, I look (and smell) awful. Sometimes I am not very pretty.

Trying to keep up with makeup trends, fashion trends and flawless skin is hard. No matter how hard I work, or how much I spend, I can not always be beautiful. As I have gotten older, I have had to accept that I look older. People still compliment my looks, but it does not build my confidence anymore. It builds my fear. It makes me question if people will still like me when I am old an wrinkly. Will I still have confidence? Does my value diminish as my looks diminish? Will people be able to see me, beyond my looks?

I want my life to have more value and deeper meaning than what appears on the surface.