Link for the video:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUSEL-2qWT8
I Googled the word beauty and found that,
Beauty is a white woman’s face, perfectly proportioned,
Pink lipstick properly portioned,
With fives make up brushes pointed at key places.
Underneath a quote: Beauty is not in the face; beauty is in the light of the heart
Beauty is not in the face…but in the light of the heart.
They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,
The beheld beholden, at the behest of the beholders holding of their beauty, their worth.
Because,
We all know that women can’t be inherently beautiful,
Inherited bodies bountifully blessed, no.
Only when fake plastered with plastic paint can the perfect beauty truly shine
And we, men, castrated by capitalistic corporations to capitulation can’t raise beautiful daughters.
Can’t counsel the insecurity restrictions or cancel the iniquitous subscriptions.
Let our daughters live in the imagination creation of malevolent masterminds that is
the fantastical TV land where perfect people perch with beauty bought from bottles
instead of teaching her the perfection of potential, the beauty of belief and the power of possibility
our daughters grow to be wives, mothers, sisters and aunts,
trapped like ants in a anteater world where each day is war
and they can’t leave the house without war paint
wordless glances eviscerating their foes and decimating the enemy
only to have each glancing blow landed by disdainful glance
leave internal scars seen in the mirror
the mirror which never names her the most fair in the land
so she is stuck, chasing a white face, perfectly proportioned
unable to be satisfied by the perfection incarnate that she was born
and we, men, stand aside hopelessly helpless unable to help
until now.
I refuse to stand on the sideline of this one-sided fight
So I write this for every man, boy or child that has told the women they love that they are beautiful
And not been believed.
For every time I looked you in the eyes, told you that you were perfect and you did not believe me.
For every night spent showing her, her body with trembling fingers and for each whispered word, drunk in the perfection of the moment broken by the disbelief ingrained in the insecurities
You are beautiful. No. We know women are not inherently beautiful.
You are beyond beautiful.
This is for every woman I have met, will meet and will never meet.
Beauty can’t even begin to capture your being, you are so far beyond the word that to call you beautiful wouldn’t be becoming.
Your eyes shine like miniature supernovas when you laugh at something stupid
Your mouth hold the promise of tomorrow, whether curved in a smile or open and yelling or giving the valedictorian speech.
Your hair is the foundation of a dream catcher, each strand the rope I will use to save myself when stranded and lonely I will sink my fingers into your length and relax my worries
Your body is the perfect fit for my puzzle, you fold into me like a puppies love, all-encompassing and warm. So warm you melt my rough edges into the softness of self
You smell like home and adventure and mystery and magic and fresh cookies
Your heart makes the Grinch jealous because it is a million times to big, so big that you can fit my mistakes and still have room to love me. Your heart is so big that if you allow it, it can love you too…scars and all.
Your soul is the missing link, the answer to why we are on earth and the solution to the greatest problems
You are my mother. You are my sister. You are my lover, my wife, my unborn daughter. My friend. My companion. My soul mate.
Don’t you dare you dare tell me that you are not beautiful.
You are beyond beautiful, and don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t. Especially not that girl in the mirror.
