To the chivalrous and pure-hearted gentlemen out there who constantly strive to make women feel valued and beautiful no matter what they look like, let me just let you off the hook for the minute.
It's not always you.
When I spend hours upon hours scanning every website imaginable for the bathing suit that will magically form to every unique curve of my body, transforming me into a feminine beauty that's demure and sexy all at once only to come to the conclusion that I'm just a freak of nature who can't wear anything, reducing me to a teary, wilted mess in the corner of my bedroom....
it's not for you.
It's for other girls.
It's for my perfect and beautiful cousins, with California-tanned skin and volleyball-toned bodies and 57 different perfect bikinis. It's for the girls I go to school with, who like me are all trying and failing to discover the Holy Grail of attractive one-pieces and need a shining beacon of hope (aka me) to prove that yes, it exists. It's for the girls I went to high school with, who decided to choose between being hottest and being modest, who I always wanted to inspire into thinking that you can, in fact have both.
Sometimes I wonder if girls really are all that mean to each other, or if the cruelest things we hear are just our own voices, imagining what they're saying about us in their heads. I have no idea if any girl has ever judged me for wearing more modest swimwear. I just assume they do. Because somehow, some way, no matter how confident I am in how I've been created... I will always find a reason to convince myself that I am not beautiful.
So gentlemen, thank you for being kind, and please continue to do so. The battle for outer beauty seems so petty and ridiculous, I know. But let me tell you. It's hard. And cruel. Because it turns out... you were the enemy the whole time.
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