Beauty Is Pain

By Rishika Tipparti

Studio lights at 5 in the morning

Shed light on the surgeon's hands

Cutting into skin already leathery and doused in retinol

As they try to ignore the smell of hair burning

Like the acid of the empty stomach

And the taste of bile in the baby-tooth lined walls

Of the hollow cheeks' caves.

Sunshine at 5 in the morning throws light on bruises

Under the eyes, smears of late night scrolling

Because you need to plan your diets and craft your next workouts

Cut meals out of your day and cut parts out of your body

Because being pliable is beautiful.

Because being small enough to snap in half just like your spirits is beautiful

Because forgoing your spine to lose an extra few pounds is beautiful

And you work out and squat until your knees beg for mercy

So your ass looks great

When you bend over to retrieve your dignity

And you look like the pornstars your boyfriend wishes you were

When he's hitting you from the back

So you can be the "chill" girl that doesn't say no

Because that's what pretty girls are.

It's what being beautiful is.

It's blowing up your lips

until you can't kiss your mother anymore

And putting botox in your face the day you turn 25

So the fate lines in your face that tell the world

that you've lived your days laughing and crying disappear

It's little girls watching their mothers and sisters hate themselves

And following suit

Because to be a woman is to loathe yourself

So others can love you

It's breaking yourself

So others can't break you first

It's holding back your laugh to be a lady

It's holding back your tears because you're wearing mascara

and you're an ugly crier anyway.

It's holding back your anger and fear and hope and love

because God forbid you break your facade of unbridled sexiness

Because pretty dolls belong in glass cases and playboy magazines

With a perpetual pout and leaning over just enough

So your low cut does you justice

But doesn’t make you a whore.

It's covering your face in makeup

Because you can't look at the face

That came from the womb

In the mirror anymore

And you want a smaller nose,

Rounder eyes,

Pinker lips,

Lighter skin

Straighter hair,

Because the ladies on the internet do too

And everyone loves them

And not you.

And it's love yourself

And natural is beautiful

Until you're not skinny

Until you stop wearing makeup

Until you don't have hips, tits, lips and an ass

Then it's

"Count your calories, bitch,

Nobody wants a whale

No one wants a chalkboard

Line my pockets with cash

Because I'll season my food with your tears

Know your place

Ugly bitch"

It's to break yourself apart

And put yourself back together like a puzzle.

Except your heart.

That stays broken.

Because you’re chasing the unattainable

Because, really, it's not about expanding

Who's sexy and who you can sleep with

It's about erasing it entirely

Because we're more than our bodies and our body counts

We are the spirit inside

That makes the body run

And sing

And "ugly" cry

Where tears run down your face and your mouth stretches into a wide grimace

So big that your joy and sadness swallows the whole universe

And the wrinkles under your eyes like roots

Dig into your cheeks whenever that happens

Because to be a woman isn't about being

Ugly or sexy or bangable to the world,

It's about living life and filling every crevice

Because your body isn't your love

It isn't your hopes and dreams

You are what you see

In a world where you're blinded

So you feel your way through

Sex and love and cosmetics and drugs

Burning your fingers trying to be hot

And dragging high-heeled feet over coal and embers

Because beauty is pain

Except it isn't

Because beauty is love.

Because love isn't cutting yourself up

To fit into something that's supposed to be built around you.

Love isn't sex and glitter and cut and paste

Love is life. Love is being alive

Our bodies still love us

So please

Love them too.

By Rishika Tipparti