Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?
One Sunday afternoon, I was on the bus going to meet up my friends at the cinema to see a movie my friends had been talking about for weeks. As I was put my earphones in to tune in to my favourite playlist, the bus came to a halt a few cars behind a traffic light.
Just as I opened Instagram, my eyes landed on a picture of a model plastered across the screen. It was a perfume advertisement for Dior in which a beautiful, shimmering woman emerged from a lake of gold. She had jet black hair, slick with water and she stared at me with deep set eyes. The words Goddess Rising were written in big, bold letters in the black sky behind her. She looked like she was made of something ethereal, like she didn’t belong to this world. She was absolutely beautiful, with smooth, radiant skin and a slim body that many women would love to have. She was desire personified.
The lights turned green, the bus lurched forward and continued down the road. But I couldn’t get the woman out of my head for the rest of the day and it made me think about the person I wish I could be.
You see, I have this idea of myself, this idealized form, a version 2.0. Do you know what she’s like? She’s taller. Her complexion is clear, blemish free. Her hair falls down to her elbows in glossy waves. Her teeth are white and straight, her smile is award-winning.
I envy her to the point that my vision is clouded and I want nothing more than to destroy myself to become like her. I compare her to the woman I saw on Instagram, and I understand that neither are real. The person I wish I could be, the idealised version of myself is too perfect, and perfection is a myth. I realise the person I kept wishing to be all these years; beautiful, tall, radiant – was what society and social media had nailed into me.
I’ve changed my mind, the person I wish I could be isn’t perfect or radiant, because beauty can only take you so far. The person I wish I could be is happy. Happy and comfortable in her own skin. So next time you’re scrolling through instagram and you see an image of ‘perfection,’ don’t let it break you. Unlike perfection, happiness is not a myth. It’s looking up at the night sky and understanding that you are part of something greater than yourself. It’s real and attainable and the only thing I want because ultimately, all that glitters is not gold.
By Ishita Sharma