Happiness Defines Me Now
Why is it that we all think every single baby is “beautiful?" Especially when they smile or giggle, we “aw” in affection and wonder at the beauty that is a newborn or toddler. Why is that? Their faces are not fully formed. There is no symmetry. They don’t have a glow from the pounds of make up they put on or a strong jaw line passed down from their fathers. Why are they “beautiful” again?
If you look at the standard that every adolescent, teen, and adult is held to, looks-wise, you would know we don’t call everyone beautiful. But we call every baby beautiful. What’s the difference? Perhaps it’s the unforgiving way we judge everyone over the age of 4 based on their looks or their potential to look good. Yet, we don’t judge babies. We are astounded by their beauty. A beauty caused by happiness, satisfaction, and amusement. What if—stick with me here—we stopped defining beauty on looks and we started to define beauty based on happiness, or god forbid, what makes us unique OUTSIDE of our faces and bodies. What if we called someone beautiful because they laughed so genuinely? What if we called someone beautiful because they love who they are? What if we called someone beautiful because their day is bright and they’re showing it?
I know we all say it— it’s what on the inside that counts. BUT WHAT IF IT ACTUALLY IS? Why do we care about wrinkles, big noses, flat foreheads, messy hair, big asses, floppy arms, wide stomachs? Strip it all away and what are you left with? You. Whatever it is that makes you you. Your happiness, sadness, anger, grievances, stress, experiences, ups, downs, struggles, successes, all of it. So why are we spending so much time and putting so much pressure on the shit that honestly doesn’t hold any meaning?
What is ugly? Maybe anger and stress are ugly. But feelings definitely aren’t. And human faces definitely aren’t. I bet you the next time you see someone that society would define as not “beautiful” as soon as they genuinely laugh or smile or enjoy themselves, you find beauty there. And if you don’t, I challenge you to look harder. It is gorgeous to see someone love themselves. It is gorgeous to see someone take a big ass deep breath and say this is me and I fucking love it. It is gorgeous to enjoy your day, your friends, your job. It is gorgeous. It’s not easy. But working out till you want to cry just because someone else said that that’s how you can be beautiful isn’t easy either, yet a shit ton of people do it.
Why can’t we all put in the same effort to love our insides, our days, our jobs, our talents, our weaknesses, our family, our friends, our collaborators? What’s in the way? The fact you won’t be a magazine model? Excuse me, do those people look happy to you? I want happiness on my magazines, not a specific dress size. I want smiles on my media, not abs or the “bedhead” sexy hair. That doesn’t make me feel anything. I don’t feel your radiance. I don’t feel your love. You know what we can all feel? When someone is leading with love, courage, and enjoyment.
I’m not saying I do it. I’m saying I want to try, because I’m sick of thinking about all the shit that doesn’t really matter. I want to radiate joy. I want to smile. I want to laugh at the funny things, hell I want to laugh at the stupid things that try to bring me down. It’s my day, my life, my thoughts. So I’m going to try to fill them with beauty— but not beauty based on eye color or skin color or waist size— I want to fill them with a beauty based on content, satisfaction, happiness, curiosity, breath. Wanna try with me?