Perfect Illusion

The moment I traded my beauty in for perfection I was lost.

I went to the dentist to get some of my cavities fixed, and because he worked on my front teeth anyways he fixed the roughness of the ending of my front teeth into a perfect line without asking. He has asked me to do that every dentist appointment before since I have sat down in his chair and I have always told him no, cause ya girl loves her crooked teeth.

He handed me the mirror and they were perfect. Perfect. He said now you can smile again, on which I said with a big smile, well I could anyways. Till that same day later it hit me hard, I caught my face in the mirror and looked at my perfect teeth and got so incredibly sad. They are beautiful, but my crooked teeth were more beautiful. Wait, what?!

My crooked teeth were more beautiful because they were unique, one of a kind, they were mine. Like a perfect haute couture dress just for you. And now they are gone. Gone in the sea of endless prêt-à-porter garments aka the mass production of trendy clothes. Everyone looks the same and no one is really dressed so YOU.

I used to be a perfectionist, just like my dentist, and even still sometimes I am struggling. In the work I am creating, yet also for the look of my body. I used to hate my nose, I would put a finger in front of my nose when I looked in the mirror so it looked smaller, and it made me so much prettier I thought. As well as the rest of my face could do some tuning. My belly lacking definition. And here I am with perfect front teeth for the first time in life, and I am not happy with them at all.

Which is so sobering in a weird way, cause every time I think I should look a certain way, I am more unrecognizable, and look more like all the rest of them. I don’t really look like me anymore but like a picture of perfection. There is somehow no depth to it, no character to it. It is just that, a perfect line. You know I am tired of chasing perfection. I am really tired of the media, the fashion world, magazines to tell me to look like perfection or I won’t be enough.

In reality, perfection is so boring, everything looks the same. There is no uniqueness in any of the pieces. I will choose garments that are one of a kind over mass-produced garments that everyone is wearing any day. That is why I love thrifting so much cause it is this treasure hunt of one-of-a-kind of these rare gems you can’t find anywhere else.

So that left me thinking, I will choose to be a one of a kind human being any day over this beauty standard we put on ourselves and others. I don’t want to be like anyone else. I don’t want perfect teeth. I don’t want a face which is symmetric. I don’t want the perfect hair, even though I love those full manes so much. I don’t want the latest trends. I don’t want that tiny nose. I want to look like ME.

I want to look like ME. And that doesn’t mean I just let everything hanging. No, it means hiding season is over. It means masks off. It means me, covered in my full beauty. It means that I go and dare myself to be the full me I can possibly be. Without all the looking at other lives. Their life is awesome, let’s be friends, but you know it is not yours, you know other things will set your life ablaze way above your wildest dreams than when you would chase down what they are doing, looking like, or going after.

It means singing songs with the colour of my voice instead of this perfect voice I think it should be. It means me dressed in garments I adore and don’t fit into the environment I should be part of at all. It means me chasing the wildness of a career that is the insane fit for me. It means breaking the cycle of perfection and standards. It means going fully after YOU. Your style, your life, your face. YOU.

Lots of love,