We all have insecurities about ourselves. For a lot of people, they’re nothing particularly chronic. But for some of us, it’s a debilitating obsession over the pursuit of something. What that thing is, we don’t know since the goalposts keep shifting. Nothing is ever enough. No perfect is ever present. Cognitively, we are aware that perfection isn’t any attainable thing, but when that voice whispering in your ear is actually 1000 voices shouting your flaws at you, cognitive rationalising is elusive.
Billion dollar corporations have been built by the insecurity factor. The fashion industry, cosmetics, dietary supplements… All aimed at a base desire to find ourselves. Your perfect self is the you which you are happiest at. It’s a journey. Some days are easier than others,. But we need to reject this false idea that the wealth of our lives is defined by our bodies. That we must be built a certain way to function in society. That we must look like some ideal to be accepted.
The patriarchal beauty standard needs to be put aside. For women of colour especially, being apologetic for looking like you do must be cast aside. Misogynistic body policing must be strewn aside.