Am I beautiful because people tell me I’m beautiful? Am I beautiful because men tell me, or because the women in my life tell me, or because I know I am?
. . .
xx
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A flower is beautiful, but doesn’t know it or understand how much joy it brings to the world. True beauty emanates naturally from that which is pure and honest.
Hey Rich! Hope all is well; love that first line. Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: “The rose is a rose…”
I was thinking moreso in terms of physical/superficial beauty. What determines that? How do we even know what’s beautiful and what’s not — especially when our perspective and opinions are largely formed by what we see in the media? By what’s perpetuated by a patriarchal, Euro-centric society? (I.e.: I think I like XYZ, but is it because I see XYZ everywhere and have been conditioned to think I like it?)