Women have heard the saying “beauty is pain” for generations, a lesson ingrained in society that for a woman, a pleasing appearance is worth whatever price you pay to get there. But should beauty come at the cost of suffering? Should it linger as a constant whisper in the minds of girls and women at every stage of their lives?
“Beauty is pain,” they say.
Suffer through a 12-step skincare routine, slathering on retinol before bed and sunscreen in the morning to fight off aging and wrinkles. After your routine, layer on makeup. Conceal yourself. Dab the concealer beneath your eyes, hiding the exhaustion of endless nights devoid of rest. Mask the blemishes that mark your skin, suffocating them instead of letting them breathe.
12-3-30, they say, as you push yourself at the gym. Sweat, but not from the exertion, for it is not the gym that tires you.
Shave away every inch of hair, leaving yourself exposed, yet tread carefully, for the razor may slice through your skin. And when it does, conceal it. Place a band-aid over the wound, hoping it will not leave a scar.
Wear heels to elongate your frame, seductive with every click as they strike the ground. Slip into a push-up bra to sculpt the curves of your body.
Beauty is pain.
Breast augmentation, breast reduction, eyelid surgery, rhinoplasty, face lift, liposuction, tummy tuck, forceps, clamps, needle holders and suturing instruments — these tools and procedures are the means to transform our bodies, enhancing our natural beauty and sculpting us into our ideal selves. It is just a procedure, they say. Months of recovery, but in the end, the reward is undeniable: a reflection that aligns with your vision of perfection, a body that feels more like yours than ever before.
Beauty is pain.
There is a foreigner in my mirror. I instinctively reach out to touch the glass, as though my fingers could somehow prove that this reflection is not real, but it is. She breathes, speaks and moves. She is beautiful, but who she is is a mystery to me. Doppelgänger. Inhibitor. Fake. Perfection, perhaps, but not mine.
I do not recognize her. I do not know who she is or, more unsettlingly, who I am anymore. The lines between us blur, and I feel lost, as if I have become a stranger to myself. The face I see feels both too familiar and yet entirely alien.
I want to understand, to claim her as my own, but I cannot. The mirror reflects a version of me that feels unreachable, like a version of perfection that I never truly wanted, yet now can not seem to escape.
Beauty is pain.
Ugly and pretty, the two sides of a relentless war waging in a woman’s mind. They clash, each determined to plant their flag firmly in the heart, each trying to stake their claim on her identity. The battle never ends: one moment, pretty stands victorious, filling her with confidence and light, making her feel invincible, like the world is hers to conquer. Then, ugly rises, whispering doubts, clawing at her self-worth, casting shadows over the brightness that once seemed so certain. It is a constant, exhausting struggle, as these forces tug her in different directions, each trying to define who she is and who she should be. Each victory feels temporary, fleeting — an illusion of peace that is always shattered by the next wave of self-doubt.
True beauty is acceptance.
The saying “beauty is pain” is a tired cliché, passed down for generations, often reinforcing the idea that suffering and discomfort are necessary to achieve beauty. However, the reality is that beauty should never come at the cost of harming yourself or changing who you are to fit into an ever-shifting mold. True beauty lies in acceptance — accepting yourself, your unique features and your individuality rather than conforming to society’s impossible and ever-changing standards.
Beauty is a social construct: an idea that is not fixed but instead shaped by culture, media and history. What is considered “beautiful” today is vastly different from what was admired in the past. Centuries ago, pale, porcelain skin was the ultimate beauty standard, symbolizing wealth and status. Now, the trend has flipped entirely — bronzed, sun-kissed skin with bikini strap tan lines dominates beauty ideals.
These standards prove that beauty is not universal, but dictated by cycles and trends that fade with time, yet society continues to pressure women into chasing them.
We should remember to be kinder to ourselves, and pass down this knowledge to future generations that beauty is not pain, but love. True beauty is found in confidence, authenticity and self-love. Real beauty is not about changing yourself — it is about accepting yourself.