Every woman question

High school was brutal. 

We were poor. Or as the Eldorado Park gang christened, “kak poor” (sh*t poor).

This meant we couldn’t afford the expensive facial cleansers and treatments my peers swore by. We had one green bar soap that washed clothes, dishes, bodies and faces.

My parents were careful to maintain our family’s dignity despite our lean life, and for a blissful while, I could just about blend in – although it was more that I could go about obscured. 

And then the turning happened. The girl child became a woman and raging hormones wrecked havoc.

Virtually overnight, what was a fairly smooth face deformed into a puss-filled minefield

The problem with poverty is that it makes an eruption of pimples pop out grotesquely. At puberty, this is a horror because it’s when most, if not every girl wants to be prettiest and cutest and most enchanting to boys. It’s around this time when the every woman question popped up for me.

Am I adorable, beautiful, and captivating?

The mirror told me I was hideous. The girls were cruel, branding me ‘mubi’ (isizulu for ugly) . The plague evading boys affirmed what the mirror and my gender proclaimed.

Why was I so ugly when my peers were so effortlessly beautiful with youthful, clear glowing soft skins, and their stunning noses, captivating eyes, beautiful beautiful everything. How did they do it? 

Granted there’s nothing I could do about my “oxygen-thieving” broad nose but marketers promised there were lotions and potions that could make my face less terrifying.

I determined to collect, beg for, and even pinch some coins just so I could have a better answer to my yearning. The day came when I had the required fifteen rand for a beautifying cleansing potion and I skipped to the mall with giddiness.

There I fell into a black hole of complexity.

Staring at the beauty shelf was overwhelming. Having never shopped for a fancy face soap, the vast options were staggering, and expensive for days! 

How could I know what concoction set would be right for my face, considering my complexion was much darker than the pictured beauties on the bottles? After a long spell browsing all the strange concoctions, I settled on a bottom-shelf cleanser my pennies could procure, with great hope for a glorious transformation.

After months of sparing use, I was disillusioned. Instead of clearing up, the pimples worsened and any confidence I had vanished. Desperate, I tried several recommendations until I succumbed to weariness and resigned to my fate as the ugly duckling.

Less is more

Certain no boy could accept an unsightly peasant girl, thereby condemning me to a life with no love, romance, marriage and happiness, I consoled myself with excelling academically. 

No longer concerned with three step beauty routines, I simplified to a simple daily wash with soap, water, and moisturizing aqueous cream or coconut oil.

Once a week I pampered my face with steam and gentle exfoliation with bicarbonate of soda.

This simple routine helped my face through puberty. Although I’d have breakouts, usually before, during or after my menstrual cycle, I had more radiance for more of the time.

More for less

Countless gurus have undertaken to define the concept of beauty but in all the noise, they’ve managed to stir even more confusion and complexity as to the essence and substance of beauty. 

It has been said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and to all extent this is only true dependent on the critical variable that is the beholder.

The beholder controls the narrative. And throughout modern history and my experience it’s been purported that the pale, rosy cheeked, golden haired, blue eyed damsel is the standard for beauty. 

Various cruelties have been inflicted in the aim of preserving this narrative, and though not as brazen as Hitler’s acts, this serpentine narrative claims many a woman’s joy, peace and sometimes, their very life.

For the longest time I believed the cunning tale of white supremacy. Somewhere deep down, I loathed that I was born with dark skin, coarse curly short hair, brown eyes, and voluptuous curves. Oh yes, and, that never would my cheeks turn rosy with coyness. 

With this propaganda widely spread in media, its poison seeps into most people’s hearts, such that whenever “the image of beauty” enters a room, there is instant turning towards her by males and a kind of dimming into the shadows by females.

Over time this model has slightly morphed, because nowadays – on occasion, they allow for darker skinned girls to grace magazines, advertisements and beauty contests however certain criteria remain: the straight nose, narrow face, long flowing hair,  and skeleton frames – you know it.

The mad thing about this brainwashing is that more often, it is meritless beholders who, because of one or other personal insecurity, start a feel-good campaign or movement that ends up defying the unity of truth, to the tragic deception, anguish and destruction of many.

The day I resigned to my fate as an ugly duckling sparked a change in me. Suddenly, my concept of beauty began to drift away from blind acceptance of society’s volatile ideas and models of beauty. 

Who were they to say who is beautiful or not anyway? What qualified any of them to pick and choose from what they had no hand in crafting?

Looking back, I see my concept of beauty was shaped by who magazines portrayed as “hottest”, and who TV shows crowned as Miss South Africa, World or Universe. My desire to be beautiful, to be told I am beautiful and to be celebrated for my beauty was a vital affirmation and nurturing I missed out on in girlhood and I thought I could gain the answer to my question from the world.

The thing is, many things in the world are misleading, often strenuous toils and oppressive yokes. 

Perhaps what I needed to know during my puberty stage was that I was intrinsically wonderful and be educated on how my anatomy, biology, physiology and psychology were going through very normal and natural developments that need not have alarmed me into a frenzy. Maybe then I should have been saved from those extra panic zits! 

In our wicked cultures, I’ve heard preteen girls referred to as sexy and encouraged to pose and pout as the idols of beauty do. If only they were not so hated to be so misled and rather loved to be reminded and affirmed of how fearfully, wonderfully, and divinely made they are.

There are many voices that murmur about what beauty is and isn’t. It is the half truths and whole lies ceaselessly dished out that drive so much of the cosmetic and beauty sales. It’s these cruel equivocations that drive women and now men crazy trying to preserve shifting shadows.

As I grew into womanhood, my face gradually climatized to the changes of puberty and steadily cleared out. Now it has more and more glow. Every now and then I peer at myself and cannot help give thanks for the beauty and radiance reflected back.

The true secret to lasting radiance and beauty comes by asking God. 

Whether we like it or not, God Almighty is the only qualified author and beholder of beauty. Therefore it is from Him we may find true definition, standard and application of beauty in ourselves, others and the world.

So many things in the world conspired to confound the answer to my question. Propaganda promoted white girls, light skinned girls, and plank wraiths as the symbols of beauty. This hit hard on my question as a dark skinned curvy girl.

It is when I started to glimpse the whole truth from our Maker that I came to perceive the blessed assurance of my beauty. The Sunday school chorus erupted into my spirit and I sang it until I knew that indeed God made little boys and he made little girls out of straight lines and circles and squiggles and curls – all unique and gloriously diverse!

How awesome that there isn’t just one portrait of a beautiful girl and woman. My curves God made and affirmed good. My dark skin he gave me and affirmed good. My knobby nose he made and liked it too. As did he make everyone else in the world: very goodly and fearfully and wonderfully! 

As the unfolding of the true concept of beauty continued for me, I came to this summation:

Let your true beauty come from your inner personality, not a focus on the external. For lasting beauty comes from a gentle and peaceful spirit, which is precious in God’s sight and is much more important than the outward adornment of elaborate hair, jewelry, and fine clothes.
Apostle Peter in 1 Peter 3:3-4

I’m ill at ease with the elaborate. I love simple things. I relish effortless and efficient.

Even so, there has been much effort in understanding the value of a gentle and peaceful spirit having been long schooled in secular cacophony, but two keys completely unlocked the purpose and pursuit of beauty

Man sees the outward appearance, yet none of us is solely our bodies. We are more than the tent or vehicle we use to navigate and experience the world, yet, because of man’s infinite ignorance we fail to perceive the deeper things. 

In searching for a mate, one may chase the prettiest thing in a skirt (as they say) and end up living with an embittered, immature, hateful wi(fe)tch. Outward appearance alone rarely informs the true nature of the whole and therefore is the least reliable measure of people’s value and worth.

But the Lord sees the heart

Obviously this is how Supreme Intelligence would behold boys and girls – men and women. 

As our Maker, God knows the shell is not the chick but that the chick is inside and what’s inside is what eventually emerges to reveal the actual spirit-person in the body. 

So what’s the value of a gentle and peaceful spirit?

Earlier I mentioned how bewildered women and men toss from pillar to post for every new ideology and narrative regarding the every woman (and man) question. We try to measure up to exclusive impossible opinions and then fall into stupid comparisons and competitions. What this does to our true selves, the spirit, is make us frazzled, ever anxious and discontent. Living like this is hell, if anyone would be so courageous to confess truly.

There is no peace in hell. Your mind must always be chattering about what next outfit, contour kit, shoe or pose you must do to be the most beautiful. All this in the face of fresher, younger, prettier things popping onto the stage by the dozen

When we find the answer to our Am I beautiful quest through the eyes of I AM, the true Beholder, God our Maker, this is the beginning of healing for our whiplashed tormented spirit self. A peaceful spirit is never brash, rushed, or unsettled. Such a spirit moves in the rhythm of love’s ease and joy – because they are adored by the only One who has any right and all jurisdiction to answer our every woman question.

Like external potions and accessories, we have to procure the pleasing fragrance of a gentle and peaceful spirit from Merchant God. The distinction about Merchant God is that he makes great effort to ensure our purchase is worth more than we could ever have dreamed.

So it was for me when I bought the true concept of beauty. An outwardly beautiful form is quickly marred by sin’s peace-robbing nature. Envy and covetousness of our neighbor’s features makes us fretful and unhappy thereby causing hardness and scowls of tension and dis-ease. But knowing that the only One who matters thinks each of us is uniquely beautiful soothes our souls to wholeness and thereby a graceful gentleness and radiance that man can never manufacture.

Truth be told, there is no dress, shoe and jewel we can ever have

or face-beat we can ever do that can compare to the sweet delight and tranquility of surety and security in God’s firm response to my heart’s Am I adorable, beautiful, an captivating yearning. And He alone being the observer of hearts is sure to affirm us back to our truest pleasing self.

When I asked God “Am I Beautiful”, he kindled and continues to ignite his joy in my heart as he faithfully makes me whole. I believe it is exactly for this reason that I am beautiful.

Unlike stores, Merchant God’s beauty products: joy, peace, love, patience, gentleness, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, and self control give the most for a whole lot less — and refills never run out or get discontinued. Moreover, the longer we apply his remedies, we radiate more and more gloriously as the days go by!

Obviously it’s alright to use external beautifying products. It’s lovely to enjoy quality time caring for our hair, faces, and bodies, and if we are at ease with elaborate rituals, that’s cool.

I’m just a simple girl who likes to slay several serpents in as little time and in the simplest most sustainable way possible.

Tapping into God-beauty and maintaining my simple facial routine is that for me. 

xoxo

Nimi