How do they do it?
I stumbled upon this blogpost. It discusses, with some amount of hubris, the fact of having beauty, and that having beauty affords certain privileges. The author mentions asking for and receiving free drinks as one such perk.
I wasn't appalled by her presumption, nor was I jealous of her pretty photo. I was deeply envious of her certainty.
Imagine asking a bartender, with a straight face and all the confidence that beauty imbues, for a free drink. Going into a place of business and requesting a nonessential service for exactly no return. What if the bartender laughs in your face and tells you to fuck off? What if he says, "You're not THAT pretty, honey." What if he enumerates your flaws for all to hear? How can you possibly assume - know for certain based on a reflection and your own perception - that you are beautiful? How can you know that?
The ones with this certainty - were they not knocked down sometimes? Were they always tucked in close, accepted consistently and unconditionally by their loved ones? It can't be. There must have been setbacks. Everyone, no matter how lovely, must have occasionally felt the sting of rejection. They must have moments of self-reflection in which they recall injurious words, indifference, ugliness reflected in their direction. In those moments, they must doubt the validity of their own assessment.
She does mention moments of neurosis; "morning pillow face" is the apocalypse, and the absence of catcalls is disappointing. No "nice guys" ever approach her, but that's only because of how intimidating her beauty is (God knows beauty and ''niceness" are like oil and water). But hubris has lent her truth, and she knows her place in the scheme of desire. Isn't there value in that? Can we really fault her for her certainty while the rest of us struggle to figure out what we are and how others see us?
I stumbled upon this blogpost. It discusses, with some amount of hubris, the fact of having beauty, and that having beauty affords certain privileges. The author mentions asking for and receiving free drinks as one such perk.
I wasn't appalled by her presumption, nor was I jealous of her pretty photo. I was deeply envious of her certainty.
Imagine asking a bartender, with a straight face and all the confidence that beauty imbues, for a free drink. Going into a place of business and requesting a nonessential service for exactly no return. What if the bartender laughs in your face and tells you to fuck off? What if he says, "You're not THAT pretty, honey." What if he enumerates your flaws for all to hear? How can you possibly assume - know for certain based on a reflection and your own perception - that you are beautiful? How can you know that?
The ones with this certainty - were they not knocked down sometimes? Were they always tucked in close, accepted consistently and unconditionally by their loved ones? It can't be. There must have been setbacks. Everyone, no matter how lovely, must have occasionally felt the sting of rejection. They must have moments of self-reflection in which they recall injurious words, indifference, ugliness reflected in their direction. In those moments, they must doubt the validity of their own assessment.
She does mention moments of neurosis; "morning pillow face" is the apocalypse, and the absence of catcalls is disappointing. No "nice guys" ever approach her, but that's only because of how intimidating her beauty is (God knows beauty and ''niceness" are like oil and water). But hubris has lent her truth, and she knows her place in the scheme of desire. Isn't there value in that? Can we really fault her for her certainty while the rest of us struggle to figure out what we are and how others see us?
