One overriding thought has been plaguing me this week, I’m resentful and I know exactly who to lay the blame on, the proponents of beauty Olympics.
From birth one thing is made absolutely clear, the top currency anyone can have is beauty. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman, no achievement can eclipse the attractiveness of your features or the shape of your body or whatever it is that constitutes beauty in the region in which you live.
Movies, television, characters in books, all have been tainted by this insidious competition and we have almost all become participants in it.
I want to reject the notion that I have a part to play in it, but that is a blatant lie. Whenever I look into the mirror and judge myself to be ugly, I’m measuring myself against some idealized beauty residing in my subconscious mind.
Mostly, I’m resentful that I have to consume mediocre entertainment because the industry standards demand XYZ. There is good music I will never hear, stories untold, actors with gravitas who I will never see… And I resent that.