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Don’t Call Me Beautiful
Shit my dad says.
There’s something I’ve always hated about words used to describe people’s physical traits. I’ve never quite been able to put my finger on it, but when people lean on those words: fat, skinny, beautiful, ugly…it makes my skin crawl.
I think it’s because these words are heavy with implications about the person to whom they’re applied. I won’t go into unpacking them because we all know what those implications are on such a visceral level, but I will invite you to sit with those words for a moment and see what they call up for you. What do you visualize? What words do you associate with those images? What feelings about do you have about the people you are envisioning?
Now, I’m in no way saying that each of us will have the same exact thoughts arise in this exercise, but…there are some social constructs in there, to be sure.
It goes without saying that I’m not comfortable with being called any of these words, but beautiful, in particular, sets my teeth on edge. I’ve had lovers call me beautiful and I’ve always cringed and laughed it off. I’m not beautiful. That image you conjured up earlier? I don’t fit it. I’m ok with this, and…
