pretty hurts

Oh… My aspiration in life… would be… to be happy.

Do we need extensions in our hair; fake nails; fake lashes and make-up to cover our flaws? Do we need a flat stomach; skinny thighs; perfect breasts; a golden tan? Magazine covers tell us we do. Models on the runway show us we do. All around you society tells you to be something you’re not. To fake your beauty.

What happened to natural beauty?

I used to be ashamed of my freckles. No one else seemed to have them; at least not as many as I did. People told me how cute freckles are. Wishing they had it. People today are envious that way; we want what we don’t have and what we have we don’t want. Today I’ve realized that the freckles will always be there in some shade or another. And I’m okay with that. My freckles are as much a part of me as anything else. The freckles make me who I am. My insecurities are not as bad as they used to be.

Why not celebrate the female imperfections? Why not make the imperfections perfect? Make your flaws your best feature. Because when it comes to humans there are no standard. Women and men come in different sizes and shapes. Why doesn’t the world of fashion and magazines illustrate that?

Instead of wondering if you’re good enough; think you’re worth it without even trying. We hide away who we really are. We leave our true self at home when walking out the door in the morning. We spend hours in front of the mirror covering our flaws with make-up and perfect our hair. We change our appearance and make ourselves unrecognizable. We push ourselves beyond our limits to get in shape and think too much about what we eat. It’s okay to be healthy but to it for yourself and not to fit society’s idea. All you want is to belong, so they’ll like you. But do you like yourself?  Do you like the person you’ve become?

Society puts too much pressure on women to be beautiful. Why should you care what they think of you?  Dare to be different.

Take your make-up off. Let your hair down. Take a breath. Look into the mirror, at yourself. Don’t you like you? ‘Cause I like you.

And keep in mind that laughter is the best medicine and, that a smile is the prettiest thing to wear. Remember that who you are on the inside is more important than the outside.


The Husband’s Secret

by Liane Moriarty

Poor, poor Pandora. Zeus sends her off to marry Epimetheus, a not especially bright man she’s never even met, along with a mysterious covered jar. Nobody tells Pandora a word about the jar. Nobody tells her not to open the jar. Naturally, she opens the jar. What else has she got to do? How was she to know that all those dreadful ills would go whooshing out to plague mankind forever more, and that the only thing left in the jar would be hope? Why wasn’t there a warning label?

And then everyone’s like, oh Pandora. Where’s your willpower? You were told not to open that box, you snoopy girl, you typical woman with your insatiable curiosity, now look what you’ve gone and done. When for one thing it was a jar, not a box, and for another, how many times does she have to say it, nobody said a word about not opening it!


None of us ever know all the possible courses our lives could have, and maybe should have, taken. It’s probably just as well. Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever. Just ask Pandora.



I’ve read [so far] this summer:

  • Started the Gone-series by Michael Grant. Read Gone and Hunger, started Lies.
  • Then I took a break by reading The Fault in our Stars by Jonathan Green.
  • I continued the break from the Gone-series by reading One Hundred Names by Cecilia Ahern and Doña Maria by Cecilia Samartin.
  • The bookstore recommended the first book of the colonial nineteenth-century saga In the Land of the Long White Cloud. I also bought [and read] My Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty.
  • And before going to bed tonight I’m finishing The Unseen by Katherine Webb.