Celestial Beauties

When I was little, I would gaze up at the stars, yearning for change. The night sky—a vast celestial canvas—cradled the dreams of countless souls. I'd wish upon those distant orbs of light, longing for a beauty that seemed forever out of reach.

I hoped that one day I could embody a beauty that made me enough by societal standards, reflecting the radiance of the cosmos and my inner soul. In my parents' eyes, I was a cherished constellation in the galaxy of their love. Yet, the words of my peers dragged my self-worth into a black hole, turning me into a distant nothingness, horrifying to behold.

Every morning, as I faced myself in the mirror, I yearned for a transformation that would grant me the celestial beauty I craved. I wished for eyes as deep as the night sky, hair that shimmered like stardust, and a body resembling the silhouette of a celestial goddess. I longed to be the flawless ideals portrayed by dolls, with their perfect proportions and unattainable standards.

My desire for external validation became a gravitational force, pulling at the fabric of my identity. I yearned to shine brightly like a star, receiving praise for more than just my grades and being acknowledged for my internal shine.

I wanted my relatives to compliment my beauty rather than comment on my physical health. The yearning for external validation became a gravitational force, pulling at the fabric of my identity. I wanted to be a star shining brightly next to all the other kids, praised for more than just my grades.

I yearned to look at food without judgment and to eat without feeling the critical gaze of those around me. Nourishing myself became entangled with societal expectations, and every bite carried the judgment burden. The constellations in my mind formed patterns of guilt and shame, overshadowing the joy that should accompany life's pleasures.

Yet, every morning, when my gleaming wish failed to come true, a piece of me withered away. The void left by unfulfilled desires echoed through my soul, creating a celestial symphony of longing and disappointment. The stars, silent witnesses to my struggles, continued their eternal dance, indifferent to the wishes of a small soul on a tiny planet.

In the hallowed expanse of my mind, I navigated a labyrinth of self-doubt and insecurity. The cosmic weight of societal expectations pressed down on me like a black hole, threatening to swallow the fragments of my identity. The pain of not measuring up to beauty standards cut deep into my spirit, like meteorites leaving scars on the surface of a celestial body.

As the years passed, the wounds festered, and the echoes of childhood wishes reverberated through the caverns of my heart. I became a prisoner of my desires, chained to the pursuit of unattainable perfection that danced just out of reach, like a distant star teasing with its fleeting brilliance.

In the celestial dance above, I found solace, realizing that beauty transcends the superficial and reaches into the depths of authenticity. Like the stars, I began to embrace my uniqueness, recognizing that true radiance comes from within. Gazing at the stars each night, I understood that my worth, like theirs, was immeasurable and infinite.

The night sky became my confidant—a vast expanse where I could pour out the fragments of my shattered dreams. The stars, distant yet ever-present, whispered tales, reminding me that even in the cold, dark stretches of the cosmic abyss, there existed a beauty that defied the limitations of the human eye.

Each imperfection became a star in my constellation, forming a map sketched across the canvas of my being. The pain, once a black hole threatening to consume me, transformed into a supernova, birthing new galaxies and newfound confidence within the recesses of my soul.

The mirror, once a cruel reflection of unmet expectations, became a portal to seeing my true self, not just in the eyes but in my heart. I saw beyond the physical facade and into the depths of my essence. I became a universe of emotions, experiences, and resilience, a living testament to the profound beauty that exists in the balance of human existence.

The journey from the depths of self-loathing to the heights of self-love was an astronomical expedition, a trek through the vastness of my inner cosmos. The scars of life, like constellations, told stories of battles waged against the gravitational pull of societal expectations. The celestial beauty I had once craved existed not in the unattainable ideals of perfection but in the raw, authentic landscape of existence.

Standing beneath the night sky, surrounded by the twinkling lights of distant stars, I realized that true beauty lies not in conformity but in the uniqueness of every individual. The celestial bodies above, indifferent to the judgments of mankind, continued their journey, and in their silent brilliance, I found the courage to redefine beauty on my terms.

The night sky, once a graveyard for unfulfilled wishes, became a sanctuary. Just as all of space has yet to be explored, so has all of life. The stars, my companions, witnessed the ongoings of the universe, each being a different symbol for all. Once I fell into the depths of my depravity, I fully realized that beauty is not skin deep and that the universe that is the human soul is the true beauty.