Being (not) Beautiful

Eight year old me washed her hands,
Several times a day…
In the hopes of making them,
A few shades lighter….

Sixteen year old me, cursed the pimples on her face,
for making her invisible to the cute guy,
The one she had a crush on…

Twenty four old me,
is still struggling with scars…
Both on the body and mind,Looking at her imperfections,
Wondering what beauty really is,
And if she would ever fit into this perfect world
With its glorious perceptions of beauty.

Years have passed but the standards have been unchanged..
From the red-cheeked , long-haired girl in school,To the tall, fair,kohl-eyed girl in the metro…
The world hasn’t stopped making her feel (not) beautiful…