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Abstract

er little salon I was overcome by happiness. When I looked in the mirror all done up, I felt confident. And strangely a little more like myself.These were the only times I could look in the mirror and feel a sense of self-love.Then ten minutes later I would be looking closely to find new imperfections.If only I had more money to invest in my appearance, I would look like a supermodel every day. Then I would truly be happy with my appearance.<h2 id="8a85">It was never enough</h2>In summer last year, the desire to perfect my appearance reached a peak when I was going through a painful breakup.Although my appearance wasn’t any of the reasons the relationship ended, I bought into the idea that the best revenge was to become the best version of myself. Or as Khloé Kardashian puts it, get a “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Revenge_Body_with_Khlo%C3%A9_Kardashian">Revenge-Body</a>”.One day, I thought to myself, one day we would cross paths again and he would stare at the person I had become and regret the way he treated me.But it would be too late, I didn’t need his approval or love anymore, I knew I could have anyone.This revenge plan gave me an incredible drive. I lost a lot of weight and invested in even more treatments. Just that little bit more, I thought to myself as I was browsing through the list of available plastic surgeries. Soon I would be perfect.<h2 id="4b4d">Lockdown stopped me in my tracks</h2>Just as I thought I was reaching the height of my transformation we entered another lockdown.Not only did this mean that all beauty and tanning salons had to close, but serial-dating came to an instant halt as well.Now here I was, stuck at home, not being able to see my friends and family, not being able to go out and meet new people. The chances of ever bumping into my ex while I was only venturing in a 20-yard radius outside my home where slim.The prognosis for an end was dire. I felt deflated. My mission ha

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d hit a brick wall. What was the point now when the goalpost had been moved into a distance where I couldn’t see it anymore?So… I stopped.I stopped worrying about how I looked and how others perceived me. I didn’t need to impress anyone so I only kept the routines that benefited my health, like exercise and basic hygiene.And for the first time in my life, I focused my attention purely on things that make me happy, without any validation from outside.I started reading a lot more and pursued my new found passion: writing.I embarked on the never-ending quest of finding self-love. And somewhere in between turning hundreds of pages of self-help books and flicking through 1000’s of “5 lessons how to” articles on the medium app, I must have found it.And I only realised it that morning when I saw myself in the mirror and felt truly happy with myself, from within.<h2 id="1b2c">I never would have thought that being confident about your appearance comes from not caring about your appearance</h2>It feels somewhat strange now, that I spent 34 years of my life worrying about my appearance and never feeling like my appearance was good enough.I had always been striving to add more, lose more weight, shape and tone, buy fancier products and make-up… But the moment I stopped caring, my confidence actually increased.And by focusing on myself as a person, I learned to worry less about what others thought about my looks.The world is in lockdown, so who cares? Yes, I miss socialising and seeing my friends, but it has also given me a great opportunity to grow and learn.So the big question… Will I go back to the salon once the world opens?Probably?! If anything, I still want to support the local salons that have been hit hard by the current crisis.But I don’t need all the treatments and makeup to feel like I am someone, because I know now that I am always me. And being me is beautiful, with makeup or without.</article></body>

Lockdown Forced Me To Discover My Inner Beauty

I never knew it would be so simple to feel confident about my appearance

The other morning, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. My gut reaction came as a surprise. As my hair fell slowly over one side of my face, I pictured myself starring in a music video and thought: “You look amazing”

I had never seen myself this way. Especially not at 7 am in the morning.

I took a closer look and amusement overcame me as I finally realised the truth in the age-old saying: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Anyone who would have seen me that morning would probably say that my face bore a closer resemblance to something out of Sesame Street than that of a rockstar.

My natural hair colour now reaches beyond my cheeks where it blends into a mess of unevenly bleached strands that appear to have different lengths throughout.

My eyebrows have grown into places I didn’t know facial hair could exist.

My skin is as pale as the wall paints with those fancy names that suggest you have no eye for detail when you call them white.

Yet somehow, at that moment, my mind refused to see any flaws. I looked perfect.

All my life I have “worked on” my appearance

I have never felt confident about my appearance. Even when someone would tell me I looked stunning, I thought they were just being polite or wanted something.

From age 12 I have invested in push up bras, body shapers, self-tanners and a lot of makeup. As soon as I earned my own money, beauty salons became my second home.

I am friends with the lady that runs my local salon, mainly because I tried every treatment that wasn’t specified as “male-only”. Every time I left her little salon I was overcome by happiness. When I looked in the mirror all done up, I felt confident. And strangely a little more like myself.

These were the only times I could look in the mirror and feel a sense of self-love.

Then ten minutes later I would be looking closely to find new imperfections.

If only I had more money to invest in my appearance, I would look like a supermodel every day. Then I would truly be happy with my appearance.

It was never enough

In summer last year, the desire to perfect my appearance reached a peak when I was going through a painful breakup.

Although my appearance wasn’t any of the reasons the relationship ended, I bought into the idea that the best revenge was to become the best version of myself. Or as Khloé Kardashian puts it, get a “Revenge-Body”.

One day, I thought to myself, one day we would cross paths again and he would stare at the person I had become and regret the way he treated me.

But it would be too late, I didn’t need his approval or love anymore, I knew I could have anyone.

This revenge plan gave me an incredible drive. I lost a lot of weight and invested in even more treatments. Just that little bit more, I thought to myself as I was browsing through the list of available plastic surgeries. Soon I would be perfect.

Lockdown stopped me in my tracks

Just as I thought I was reaching the height of my transformation we entered another lockdown.

Not only did this mean that all beauty and tanning salons had to close, but serial-dating came to an instant halt as well.

Now here I was, stuck at home, not being able to see my friends and family, not being able to go out and meet new people. The chances of ever bumping into my ex while I was only venturing in a 20-yard radius outside my home where slim.

The prognosis for an end was dire. I felt deflated. My mission had hit a brick wall. What was the point now when the goalpost had been moved into a distance where I couldn’t see it anymore?

So… I stopped.

I stopped worrying about how I looked and how others perceived me. I didn’t need to impress anyone so I only kept the routines that benefited my health, like exercise and basic hygiene.

And for the first time in my life, I focused my attention purely on things that make me happy, without any validation from outside.

I started reading a lot more and pursued my new found passion: writing.

I embarked on the never-ending quest of finding self-love. And somewhere in between turning hundreds of pages of self-help books and flicking through 1000’s of “5 lessons how to” articles on the medium app, I must have found it.

And I only realised it that morning when I saw myself in the mirror and felt truly happy with myself, from within.

I never would have thought that being confident about your appearance comes from not caring about your appearance

It feels somewhat strange now, that I spent 34 years of my life worrying about my appearance and never feeling like my appearance was good enough.

I had always been striving to add more, lose more weight, shape and tone, buy fancier products and make-up… But the moment I stopped caring, my confidence actually increased.

And by focusing on myself as a person, I learned to worry less about what others thought about my looks.

The world is in lockdown, so who cares? Yes, I miss socialising and seeing my friends, but it has also given me a great opportunity to grow and learn.

So the big question… Will I go back to the salon once the world opens?

Probably?! If anything, I still want to support the local salons that have been hit hard by the current crisis.

But I don’t need all the treatments and makeup to feel like I am someone, because I know now that I am always me. And being me is beautiful, with makeup or without.