My quest for beauty is a continual one. My story is simple, yet unique and cliché in so many ways.
I’m the American, white seemingly privileged, women. Who externally people have called, beautiful, striking, and pretty… but that’s not my quest for beauty, that’s not where my beauty comes from, or came from.
If I was turned inside out and the stories of my past were labeled how society would label them all over,
I’d be labeled as, dangerous, unhealthy, scary, dark, crazed, you name it, anything that society labels a past drug abuser, someone recovering from an eating disorder and self harm.
Those things are what make my quest for beauty, beautiful, because they are my imperfect beautiful. Those past experiences, and stories and “issues” are what make me beautiful today. Not only because hardship allows for humility to grow where pain once was, but because beauty isn’t only skin deep, or of surface value.
My hardship, my stories, my past, are the imperfectly beautiful, beauty that I carry. The stories I’m able to share and relate to a fellow. The hardship I’m able to relay to the solution I took to overcome them. The past that I have made leaps and bounds from, and can share with others that may have the same story, or possibly the ability to recognize it doesn’t have to be their story.
My quest for beauty, comes from positive perspectives, solution and finally recognizing how imperfectly beautiful, imperfections are.
That is and always will be my Quest for Beauty.