Recently someone told me I was beautiful. The sentiment was meant with all sincerity, but I just could not quite wrap my mind around the idea. I felt very ugly inside, full of anger and resentment. Not one of my more stellar days. I wanted to in some way punish this person for being so dear when I myself had no kindness inside me. I have always felt that beauty is one of of those things that is about your spirit and your soul not about the fairness of your form. Some of the most beautiful people I have meet would not make it far in a "beauty" pageant.
The words, “‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’—that is all / Ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know” from John Keats Ode on a Grecian Urn rang over and over in my head like a mantra.
I kept thinking, "No truth is not beauty, truth can be ugly and hurtful. Keats was an idiot" (okay not really just maybe too naive for my taste). The phrase ugly truth comes to mind. Truth can be so ugly sometimes we can't face it. I think a nice white lie might be preferable, which brings me back to being called beautiful.
I can be beautiful sometimes, I can be beautiful in spirit and intentions. I can truly want to be the best version of myself. The version that is kind and wants to help people and see only the rosy glow of goodness. Today just happened to not be that day. Maybe today I was just not worthy of the word. Or maybe I should have just been polite and accepted the praise for my fair visage and let it go. But if truth is beauty than the truth is today I was a beautiful bitch and you know I just might be the same thing tomorrow. Notice how in this painting even Keats looks perplexed.
3 comments:
Weird, I was told I was beautiful today, too. Kind of out of nowhere. Instead of making an insightful post I was conflicted and felt a little cheap. Definitely not traits found among the beautiful.
I'm sorry you had a bad day.
Awe you are always beautiful and there is nothing cheap about it.
You are beautiful--truly. And we love your pretty, shiny hair too :)
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