Pretty

Why is it wrong to feel pretty? I’ve touched on this before, but it’s a topic that needs exploration.

There are so many shows and campaigns that tell women we should feel beautiful. Turn on TLC and within five minutes a stylist or a wedding planner or a midwife will tell a crying woman that a makeover is really the only thing she needs to find happiness.

Somehow, in the midst of all of this, we’re still living in a Regina George world.

If a woman says she thinks she’s attractive, she’s seen as vain or self-absorbed. Admitting that you like the way you look has become akin to telling the world that you’re an egotistical bimbo.

It’s admittedly confusing.

I volunteer mentoring a group of middle school girls, and we did a surprising activity a few weeks ago. To start a discussion about self-esteem, we had the girls make lists of five things they liked about themselves and one thing they wanted to change.

When we shared our lists, almost all of the girls listed solely physical attributes that they liked. Many of them couldn’t even come up with all five positives.

Given that these girls are in middle school, their lack of self-esteem could be a part of what might arguably be the most awful three years of their young lives.

However, it’s telling of a larger societal view, one that’s on the minds of the ladies of IU.

When I was in the Greek system, I grappled with this issue almost daily. Being in a group of women who accomplished so much on a national level felt empowering. On the other hand, I felt judged every time I wore my letters.

The unspoken and completely arbitrary ranks within the Greek system here are, in the case of sororities, based almost solely upon appearance. Top-tier houses are top-tier because they supposedly have the hottest girls.

Whenever I was wearing my sorority’s letters, I always felt as if I were an active part of this ranking system. If I looked really, really pretty (or “facey,” as it’s sometimes called), it would make my house look good, and we’d have a better reputation for it.

I hated having the status of more than 100 women resting on whether my hair and makeup looked nice with my half-zip. It was like normal societal expectations on crack.

Even now that I’m no longer in a house, I still feel the pressure to look my best all the time. There may not be “tiers” outside the Greek system, but the mentality is still there.

I’ve developed an almost compulsive need to check my hair in any reflective surface I walk by. It’s become a tic, something I do without even realizing, and it’s difficult to stop.

Frankly, I annoy myself, and this constant concern with how I look doesn’t reassure me. It makes me feel worse. I hate that I’ve become so concerned with my appearance. My traits and talents will undoubtedly get me further than a good hair day.

I think we’re all victims of mixed messages.

We’re told our appearance is important, but it’s not okay to admit that we like it or we have to work for it. We’re further told we need to constantly improve ourselves, but we’re beautiful no matter how we look (I’m looking at you, Dove). Finally, we’re told being concerned with our appearance is superficial and unattractive in the first place.

When you have all of this to chew on, though, it’s pretty hard not to be concerned with it.

I’m satisfied with my appearance. I think most of us actually do like the way we look. As humans, we’re naturally fond of ourselves, and it seems that we only begin to think something’s wrong when we’re told that “we’re beautiful, no matter what.” No matter what? It should just be “we’re beautiful.” Period.

It feels wrong to say because we’re bombarded with pictures of Adriana Lima, or because we know there’s another sorority girl out there that’s hotter than us, or because we don’t want to be superficial.

I’ve said it before: the only solution to this dilemma is to own up to it. When someone compliments you, don’t brush it off. Take it like a woman.

Prettiness is only a small part of what makes us worthwhile people. Although being obsessed with how we look isn’t a healthy mindset, the one thing society has neglected to tell women is the most important: It’s actually okay to like yourself. We just need to remember that who we are isn’t solely composed of how we look.

Meanwhile, I’ll try to stop arranging my hair in the reflection of my laptop. I’m annoying myself again.

­— kelfritz@indiana,edu