A friend of mine posted something on Facebook the other day that, well, really ticked me off. It wasn’t so much that she said it, but the reality of the truth behind what she said, when it should be the furthest thing from the truth.
Her post:
A woman’s beauty is supposed to be her grand project and constant insecurity. We’re meant to shellac our lips with five different glosses, but always think we’re fat. Beauty is Zeno’s paradox. We should endlessly strive for it, but it’s not socially acceptable to admit we’re there. We can’t perceive it in ourselves. It belongs to the guy screaming “nice tits”.
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