noun beau·ty \ˈbyü-tē\
: the quality of being physically attractive
: the qualities in a person or a thing that give pleasure to the senses or the mind
: a beautiful woman
Above is the definition of beauty from the Merriam-Webster dictionary. I tend to think of beauty more along the lines of the second definition. The other two certainly follow society’s ideas of beauty, but not what I’ve found for myself.
I’ve found beauty in a lot of things. I’ve found that whenever somebody is talking about something they’re really passionate about, something that excites them, and they’re just rambling on and making hand gestures with their eyes lit up, that it’s just genuinely so beautiful and it makes me smile.
I’m currently taking a class called “Introduction to Greek Art and Archaeology”, which sounds weird, yes, and I’m really just taking it as a humanities class. I didn’t enter the class thinking I was going to enjoy it, and I don’t really. It’s not something I’m especially passionate about, but my professor is. She an older, British woman with graying hair and wrinkles. She’s not somebody society would consider especially beautiful, but I would disagree. She knows so much about the subject and loves to talk about it, and just smiles and cracks jokes that none of us understand, but laugh at anyways. She goes off on tangents and makes all these hand gestures, and just really, genuinely enjoys the subject and it’s the cutest thing ever. Sometimes I just find myself smiling during lecture because it’s amazing to watch the way in which she so obviously enjoys what she does. It’s beautiful, and I wish everybody felt that way about what they do, because I think that would just make the world so much better.
I never used to believe that “it’s what’s inside that matters!”, but it really, really is. There’s nothing wrong with finding some people more attractive than others, that’s completely normal. However, I’ve found that the people I surround myself with, who are so amazing and wonderful, are the most beautiful to me even if they’re not physically perfect. Their personalities and just them being themselves makes me so happy, and I think that’s what beauty is to me. Happiness is beautiful, whether it be other people or myself.
I think that if I were to tell my past self this, I would be really surprised as I used to think more along the lines of the first and third definitions. I’m sure a lot of people do think that way, and I don’t want to fault them for that, but I just don’t see it that way. I really think the most beautiful things are what make us different and happy. I would hate for everybody to be the same, and I think that would take a lot of beauty away from the world.
(original post November 2015)