Pretty scares me.

I'm scared of pretty. How it defines and creates such rigid lines around us. I'm terrified to be defined by looks because looks will fade and I don't want to disappear. Pretty. A two syllable word that traps it's recipient in between so much turmoil. It's a badge we wear that protects and stops us from reaching our full potential. All because our hair, our eyes, our features are too pleasing. "Don't worry, you're still pretty" we're told to reassure us. As if life's problems can be solved with a hairbrush and a tube of mascara. I don't want pretty to define me. But what would my life be without it? Like it or not, it's valuable. It gives us currency for better treatment, for kinder words, fo

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