We women wish to feel, see ourselves in the most graceful way that we can possibly envisage, yet sometimes we are trying so hard to impress others, that we go overboard. Taking images from everywhere making a cut-copy-paste image is usually what we do in order to compensate for all the things that we are not. Sometimes this venture of improvement is ending up in a miserable way, where we see the mess that we’ve made of ourselves, not before being noticed by our friends who employ desperate measures, in trying to explain more diplomatically that we can do a little bit better in the way we look and present.

You’ve got to get up every morning with determination if you’re going to go to bed with satisfaction.

Due to our desperation of being just as beautiful and noticed as others, we shut down our senses, our intuition that tries to guide us in the realization that we already have that which we admire.

What if we can stop and realize for one moment that beauty lies in all of us, yet it is revealed only by asking.

Is my asking big enough, to see myself for the beauty as I am, mirrored in the essence of my soul, embracing my every single encounter in countless forms and shapes, revealed only in the synchronicity of complementary opposites that manifest the timelessness of I AM?
Am I the origin of my observations? Is my origin defined? As whenever look in the mirror of my soul, find some new form that identifies me, giving shape and reason to my life. Could it possibly be that beauty is not measured in our years, defined by age, or encountered as strictly physical beauty? Can it be that beauty comes in countless forms that are all morsels of one universal body of I?
Defining beauty in every single form, the more profound I do become, the more awakened I am to my light… I said my light. Is it truly mine? Can I call it mine? Yes and no, for how can I say: this is mine. It might be, I worked hard for it!!! –The pillars of wisdom. Could it be the only thing to weigh me down, is wisdom in which I played, my many thoughts, my many lies?

One of the hardest works that I’ve done in my life was to love myself for my ugliness and embrace it as my beauty. Would one without the others exist? .Could it be that both are one and same, yet far and distant, only our rational minds and preferences for beauty holding us apart?