“It’s not my responsibility to be beautiful. I’m not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.”

― Warsan Shire

I was so beautiful, and my appearance was so pleasant for hungry eyes, but time did not wait for my skin to glow or my hair to be free of shades of grey. I walked with pride in front of thirsty predators who could smell my fresh fragrance from a distance, and flowers grew beneath my feet wherever I stepped. A smile could bring light into the darkest souls, and my eyes shone with spark and curiosity. I was attracted by physical details, forgetting that I was getting older and that my character and memories were what truly mattered. I turned heads and captured the attention of young souls, but as I advanced on my path, the fewer stirrings I achieved.

I eventually reached a point where I possessed only a wise mind, intuition, and some regrets. However, before reaching this stage, I had engaged in a market trade, striving for high values, an expensive and luxurious life, and embracing everything that brought me only temporary joy. I saw beauty on the surface, but dust covered the lust until it became a foggy picture in a frame. I clung to memories from my youth and forgot to update the new version of myself. I neglected to change the profile picture and kept the ones with perfect smiles as the front cover, concealing what remained after all the battles that had wiped away every trace of perfection. I desired the beautiful side of the apple, but before I had a chance to taste it, I discovered that the other side was bruised, and the inside was rotten. It was just an apple that had gone through more than any label could describe, and under the spotlights on the shelf, its dark side could no longer be hidden.

I wanted things and people to be perfect, but I forgot that beauty does not reside solely on the surface. It exists in everything else that I am willing to discover and embrace, no matter how wounded it may have been.

“Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.”

― Caitlyn Siehl

Everything was beautiful in the beginning until I started scratching the surface and unlocking the demons hidden underneath. I collected moments, visited places, and created memories that later haunted my dreams and kept me awake many nights. I gave love with every good intention, willing to create a beautiful world for those I admired. However, building it for someone else proved to be a subjective process. I gave what I had based on my beliefs and idealistic quotes, but we were all so different, receiving everything offered in a personal way. I didn’t know if what I offered was received with the same enthusiasm as it was given, and even when I offered beautiful roses, someone ended up getting hurt by the thorns.

I unfolded life as I saw fit, but sometimes, I saw different shades of the same colours, or my vision was blurred by tears, making it difficult to distinguish between good and bad. I tried everything I thought would bring happiness to sad souls and put every good intention into my actions. However, closed arms couldn’t embrace what was coming towards them. I tried until I couldn’t do it anymore, and the sandcastles I created were swept away by the vortex of dust as storms came to life. I left behind everything I couldn’t change, with a bitter taste from all the effort and regrets that would forever be imprinted on the bathroom floor, flooded by tears and disappointment.

“If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong.”

― Masaru Emoto

I carried my scars with pride after so many battles, and weak and disappointed, I returned to myself, more damaged than when I had left. I carried my burdens, built walls, and closed off every access with blocks and armours. The deep wounds were still bleeding, requiring time to heal, and days apart were necessary after every loss I experienced. A time of separation, filled with grief and followed by despair, became a necessary journey I had to undertake.

In this separation, I often discovered who I truly was and the beautiful aspects of myself. I was scared and sad, lying on the floor with tears streaming from my eyes, and everything that was once admired was forgotten in a darker room. Pride and ego took control, and I sold my soul for another chance, only to be met with even deeper disappointment. It was necessary to embark on a long journey of regrets and falls before I could realize that true beauty resided in my hands. Even with sad eyes, I was still able to admire the brightness of my surroundings, and with bare hands, I could mould a new beginning, like a blossoming flower. I emerged stronger after each fight, and through the process of transformation, I discovered my inherent beauty.

“It’s easy to look at people and make quick judgements about them, their present and their pasts, but you’d be amazed at the pain and tears a single smile hides. what a person shows to the world is only one tiny facet of the iceberg hidden from sight. And more often then not, it’s lined with cracks and scars that go all the way to the foundation of their soul.”

― Sherrilyn Kenyon

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