Sighs.. I most likely have an unpopular view on this.
When I was younger, I was told that I was beautiful. I had long curly blond hair, blue/green/yellow eyes that changed with the light or my mood, and a slim, yet hour-glass figure. Wherever I went, I turned heads and that felt incredibly invasive.
In fact, at the ripe old age of 3, a man who was older than my mother said that I was the sexiest child that he had ever seen.
O.O
When I hit my early 20's, men used to stop me in the street to tell me how beautiful I was. One man, with whom I had not spoken more than three sentences, told me he wanted me as his wife. He clearly did not know me, and because of this, it was very clear that he did not admire or like my personality, he just wanted arm candy and bragging rights.
Ick, just ick
This was a long time ago.
Now, I am much older and my looks are slowly fading. I am actually relived and grateful.
I am finally free and know that those who appreciate me, do so because of who I am on the inside instead of what I look like.
I am also finally free to meet people's eyes, smile at them, be kind to them without the assumption that I am giving some sort of signal of encouragement that is woefully misinterpreted that I am interested in them in a romantic way, and no longer feel threatened that I am going to be assaulted solely because of my looks.
One stark memory that, to this day still haunts me was when my brother, to up his "social cred," tried sell me to his friends when I was 12 years old. Jesus, I had not even reached reproductive potential at that point in my life.
Another sad thing to being pretty, my mother was jealous of me. She did everything she could to put me down and make my life miserable, including cutting my hair to about a half inch length and insisting that I wear boyish clothes when I was in grade school. She also insisted I was fat. It does not surprise me that people mistook me for a boy during that time. I was also severely bullied by females in my class. I am damaged to this day because of this.
All I wanted when I was younger was a sense that I was free to be me - but, because of my looks, I always had to be careful and hide behind a mask, even with my father, mother, and brother.
Our culture is rife with the ludicrous, subliminal pressures that one needs to meet the impossible beauty standards that are prevalent in social media to have any sort of quality life. So many people long for that beauty in the misguided thought that it will make life easier. In some ways they are right, being beautiful can give one a step-up in life. However, what they may not realize, is that beauty can also be a curse and can come with a very, very steep price IME.