And when the skies are all blue
All I can think of is you
The world lights at your smile
And shines at the sound of your laugh
I met a boy yesterday. Actually, I saw a boy yesterday. “Met” sounds like it requires you and the other party to exchange words, interact even in the slightest way, and acknowledge each other’s presence. “Met” doesn’t sound right if I use it in a situation where it is only one-sided; I only looked at him when he only looked at the beach.
I was seated on my foldable chair, intently looking at the sand trying to spot wandering small crabs. I heard the birds talk in their language above me, so I raised my head and that’s when the silent beauty of the setting sun with its perfectly blended hue seeped into my eyes, spitting soft feelings in me that calmed my tensed muscles. However, the serenity didn’t stay long because as I lowered my sight directly to what was in front of me, he was there. He and his tanned skin, soft brunette curls, sunglasses tucked behind his ears and resting on the nape of his neck.
All of a sudden, there was something more breathtaking than the sunset, which shouldn’t have happened because I had been sitting in the shade of my room for months already without witnessing sunsets. But it happened, and I just looked at him.
The longer I stared, the more my heart broke. Why would he want me, I wondered, look at me. In the back of my head, I heard murmurs of my own voice that didn’t come out of my mouth: wait ‘til I glow up.
If you’ve lived until now and still don’t know what the term “glow-up” implies, you’re either living under a rock (like, literally) or faking it. It has not only been said on social media, but it has also been passed around as a compliment, among words like beautiful, stunning, and gorgeous. One change in your appearance—you trimmed your hair, cleansed your skin, or snatched your waist—and the world would take it as your "glow up."
I mean, that is the definition of glowing up: the positive transformation of one’s physical, mental, and emotional state. But if looks can be deceiving, then so can words. The end of a glow-up journey may be considered a positive metamorphosis, but the journey itself is not guaranteed to be positive as well.
For those who handle it maturely, the act of glowing up is the best time of the day: pampering yourself with care and love through preparing healthy meals, applying feel-good skincare, and stretching your body. To those on the contrary, those who see glowing up as a way to be reincarnated from a past life full of darkened beauty history that only they can tell, it feels like a challenge. A poisonous challenge where you have no choice but to win because to lose is to accept being treated in a way you wouldn’t have to obtain if you had the pretty privileges.
Watching The Princess Diaries, a line made my eyebrows frown:
In Paolo’s hands, remember, you will be beautiful. .・゜゜・
I knew it was merely a dialogue, but I still paused and pondered, why can we only be beautiful through the handwork of others? Why do people surrounding the main character only recognize her presence once a hand takes off her glasses, a hand straighten her curly hair, and a hand picks her eyebrows?
We were slowly persuaded to believe that we needed a makeover that would make us fit the beauty standard for someone to see us. I know it was only a trope, an interesting way to fill the entertainment of a movie, but it rather became a model for people to imitate in order to look good as if they weren’t already. Although no one said it, we all thought of the same thing: it takes you to look at my face before you look at my soul. It takes my skin to feel soft before you believe my soul to be kind. It takes my smile to be beautiful before you believe my laugh to be sincere.
Aside from appealing visuals to attract other’s attention—particularly boys—we also compare ourselves to others. I remember my friend being so active in showing the world every selfie she took, fearing not the comments of anyone but herself. That version of her was in the past, and the version I'm thinking about right now is the girl my friend's younger self would not have expected herself to be.
Once you start wanting to look like every girl you think is pretty, remember if we all looked the same way, we wouldn’t know what beauty looked like. As cliche as it sounds, we are all different in our own way; we just have to know what makes us different and enhance that.
As for him, the boy in the sunset, despite the fact that I needed him at some point, I don’t need his thoughts on my looks. He’s pretty, but I don’t need to “glow up” in order for him to think I’m pretty too. I’m pretty being me, and I have been and always will be pretty. Confidence and love for oneself are all you need in this world. If you rely solely on other people’s interest in you, you might be screwed.
I honestly have to consistently remind myself that I can't hide away from the world and simply wait until I've become the best version of myself