The Power of Beauty

by Tamara Jacobs

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Beauty might be the most valuable currency in the world. It is a superpower. It can get people things they would have never otherwise dreamed of. It can fool the smartest man into believing anything, and have the most powerful man on his hands and knees. But what is it that they’re after really? Status? Sex?

I will admit that there is something completely intoxicating about being around beautiful people. Especially beautiful people who are fun and interesting. They can wrap you around their finger and keep you there as long as they like, because being near them makes you feel like the most important person in the room.

But sometimes beauty can be too closely associated with superficiality. Beautiful people often rely too much on their looks until it becomes all that they are. They work at it and invest in it to ensure that it will never go away, because who would they be without it? Would anyone care about them anymore?

The nice thing about not looking like a supermodel is that you have your whole life to become comfortable in your skin. You find a regime that works for you and you stick to it, but if you steer off every now and then no one notices. You experiment with fashion and hairstyles, you learn whether you’re more French manicure or Lincoln Park after Dark. You experience life through open eyes, develop a sense of humour about it, and determine what you want you role in it to be – with only yourself and your brain to help you achieve it.

And with this sense of awareness, ambition and ability to laugh at yourself you become beautiful. Because you too are interesting and fun but most importantly real and exactly yourself. And then you come in contact with a physically beautiful person, one who’s always gotten exactly what they’ve ever wanted, and they are jealous of you, because all they want to be in life, is something more than beautiful.

You come across the men who fawn over them and you make them nervous. Because you see past their superficial bullshit. You see them for the little insecure men that they are. Men who need to stand next to a woman, universally acknowledged as beautiful, to feel important. And that’s when you realise – I am just so damn happy to be me.



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