Hiiraan Online

“And after school, I want to travel, and hopefully in the future, I’ll launch my own business, become my own CEO, and find myself a trophy wife”. That’s when he lost me. So I sat there, pretending to listen to what this guy had to say, but in actuality, my mind was wandering. 

It all made sense now. This is why women are torn; torn between being completely self-confident all while adhering to today’s standards of beauty. Because to the rest of the world, beauty is all we amount to.

Let's face it, it’s the beginning of 2016 and the definition of self-love is still one that is a working progress. Ironically, they often tell us that self-love begins from within, right? Wrong. Nowadays self-love begins from the validation and acceptance of everything around you, except you.
This world has taught us to look up to female public figures such as Kylie Jenner, but how ironic is it that Kylie Jenner doesn't even resemble Kylie Jenner? She too is a product of society.

So there you have it…society begins to eat away at everything that makes a woman a woman. It begins to receive exactly what it was searching for. The makeup, the body enhancers, the fake hair, the editing apps and so on. But why is that once the world has received it, it is now time to tear us down. “I want a natural woman”, “her hair isn’t even real” “have you seen her without make up?”, “she edits her photos”, “her body is fake”, and the backlash continues. But had the world accepted her in her natural state she wouldn't have to resort to this.

So yes, she may wear make up, but what the rest of the world doesn’t know is that the scars from her acne tell a story; one that only her makeup brushes understand. A story embraced by each bristle that has graced over her skin. So don’t tell her she doesn’t need makeup because it’s the only thing that has blurred her flaws as the world made them the focus.
And those stretch marks on her body are symbols. Symbolic to her growth and progression. And unless you have been the hardwood floor that has felt the sweat drip from her body, unless you have been the water that quenched her thirst, unless you have been the clothes that hug her when nothing else would, then don’t speak about her body. Don’t speak about her arms, or her legs, or her cheeks. Don’t speak about her with your tongue that has never uttered the words “Don’t give up”. And she continues to apologize. Apologizing that she is made of too much melanin and so she rubs away at the pigments that have molded her into the person she is today, losing every bit of herself with each stroke, only to one day be labeled as that trophy wife.

As women, we cannot completely blame the rest of the world, because we allowed them to turn us into pageants. We allowed them to sit in front of us as judges, and walk down their runway of criticism. When will we choose ourselves and realize that society will never choose us? Or even better, when will our intellect stop being an addition to our beauty, and have the ability to stand on its own?

And so as this guy concluded his conversation, it began to click.
I was sitting there as I tuned back into the conversation and in that moment I promised myself that in a man’s world where we are taught to lust after beauty, I, along with any woman who makes this decision for herself, will not be limited to the standard definition of a trophy wife. We will not be placed on a shelf, and let our bodies be covered in dust. Trophies are meant to be worked for. Trophies are a symbol of triumph and dedication. Trophies are meant to be won. So I guess I’ll be your trophy wife, but I promise it will not begin or end with just my appearance.