Today during my daily scroll, I came across a video in which a woman was discussing how humans are really not meant to be able to see themselves. I’ve come across this sentiment before, with a comment about how Narcissus is the first and most prominent example of what will happen when we are given our reflection to stare at.

As the story goes, Narcissus was a beautiful young man who fell in love with a reflection in a pool of water, tragically not realising his own reflection. In some versions, he beat his breast purple in agony at being kept apart from this reflected love, and a flower, the narcissus, then sprung up.

I cannot help but thinking about how similar this story is to our modern day. Only, our pools are the mirrors and phones we are surrounded by.

How many young people grow up seeing only the most beautiful men and women online, each made up to perfection with cosmetics or cosmetic surgery, or cleverly face-tuned or toned and tanned. Then of course, we look to our own reflections, picking them apart and deeming ourselves hideous by comparison. Never good enough.

Before mirrors, we could only see ourselves in pools, through rippled reflections, or metal that would still distort our appearance. Perhaps we might hear of our appearance from others, but we could never be so obsessed before.

Now we can see ourselves too much, though I don’t believe we see much more clearly. In fact, I think our perceptions are still highly distorted, even if we don’t want to admit it. I also think that wanting to be beautiful is a bit of a curse too. Beauty is appreciated because of its ‘rarity’, the suddenness that comes from seeing something unique, like spotting a lovely flower or a stunning landscape, or the stars each night. Of course, seeing a beautiful face is also pleasant, but how much more special does it become when it is a surprise rather than a norm?

It is just frustrating to know that we’ve become so numb to appreciating beauty. Nowadays it really does feel like being stunningly beautiful is the bare minimum expectation. Then, by consequence, people are called ugly when they aren’t made up perfectly, like when Margot Robbie or Sydney Sweeney were being called ‘mid’ a while back. Of all people.

It’s exhausting and immensely demoralising. How many times must I see girls and women each day who are so beautiful, yet who don’t believe it at all because they are only ever reminded of what they lack. The prevalence of eating disorders, the enormous success and now normalisation of plastic surgery, the return of ‘heroin chic’… When will it end?

Historically, beauty has been one of the few tools women might possess and wield to their advantage, though it also had its threats. Archetypal Helen of Troy is one such example, her loveliness securing her a husband in King Menelaus of Sparta, but also led to the epic tragedy we know from the Iliad as she was gifted in marriage to Prince Paris of Troy. How many times in history have we heard variations of this story? Beautiful women marrying into positions of relative power, only to be cheated on, raped, abused, or cast aside because of or in spite of their beauty. One can never truly win, I fear.

This also brings to mind another post which has altered my brain chemistry. When discussing ‘beauty’ there are so many different standards and conceptions of beauty. Different cultures have their own standards, and there are different rituals, practises and traditions that become normalised as a result. For example, in Australia, having the ‘sunkissed’ look is everything, even if it means risking skin cancer, while skin bleaching is common in places like India.

For men, there are different standards too, though I think we could almost write a PhD level thesis discussing the difference between how men deem each other good-looking or attractive in comparison to women deeming them attractive. I’m always reminded of how men assume all women want a guy that is over six-foot tall, while most women actually want someone who is respectful to them. Then there’s the wave of women who have developed crushes on less conventionally attractive men. You know the type: Jeremy Allen White, Adam Driver, Barry Keoghan or Pete Davidson. I personally couldn’t care less about this conversation, but it reminds me of this tweet (yes I said tweet, don’t care):

“Y’all allow men to be something they’d never allow you to be: Ugly and loved” —What a bar.

Now, please don’t let this become one of those ‘everything sucks and there is no hope for us’ situations, because I don’t believe that is ever true. We just have a lot of work to do. Recognising this is one part of that. Once we can face the fact that we do have an obsession with beauty (mostly pushed on us by the capitalist machine which makes a lot of money from our insecurities) we can begin to change it.

Of course, change takes time, and it is uncomfortable, but it can be done. Even if it is one painful step at a time.

It is also frustrating because beauty is not nearly the most important thing to aspire too. That isn’t to say we shouldn’t be able to look or feel good. But for something so subjective, it cannot be our only focus. Where is the desire for education, wisdom, love, kindness, joy, fulfilment? Why do we place such importance on something that—while nice—does not truly help anyone around us, or make the world a better place? This is not a criticism of beauty, but of our obsession with it above all else.

Alas, perhaps one day we will be able to move beyond this obsession, and find better purpose and meaning for our lives. This post is not nearly as in-depth or well-researched as I wish it could be, but my purpose with these journal entries is to write and publish anyway, so I shall! However, I’m also going to add some of the posts that inspired this entry, and perhaps one day I will be able to return to this and add some more. Or maybe you, dear reader, will have something to add, which I will look forward to hearing.