I'm a cynic when it comes to beauty. Beauty may cause more trouble than religion. It pokes at girls, creating eating disorders. It pinches young women's wallets into buying the latest trendy brands. It guiles ladies into smearing on useless nightly lotion regiments. Beauty is as unattainable to oneself as heaven. Because, who are you to be beautiful? I've never heard a woman fully claim it as her own. There's always a flaw, a 'one-thing' to change. Beauty. You can keep the version of it that plasters its judgment across exceptional faces and shapely bodies, the version that inevitably my daughters will one day worry about in their teens. That beauty... its looks can kill. Leave it alone, it's trouble in a tight skirt.
But don't be fooled, I'm beautiful.
There is a healthier side of beauty. Beauty you can create, with breathtaking artistry. Beauty you can capture, listening to a stunning symphony. Beauty you can taste on your palette, savoring a tenderly prepared morsel of goodness. Beauty you can feel, when observing nature's full naked glory at sunset. I'd rather observe it, hear it, taste it and feel it - than attempt to tame it, as mine.