Skin Deep (Part II)

The average person feels blessed and thankful when endowed with good looks. That’s why when you meet someone who could care less, it’s like a breath of fresh air. There’s something endearing about a person who doesn’t place much of a premium on his/her physical make-up. Not that they don’t care about their appearance but they know they can’t take credit for their genes and the attributes that come with it. After all blue eyes, red lips, and soft silky hair are not things you work at getting unlike good manners, cleanliness, and sense of style.

I reconnected with an old friend last year and he, by a Filipino’s definition of beauty, is drop-dead gorgeous; but is unassuming and so unflattered by his looks. As we reminisced about the past and talked about future plans, we overheard two Caucasian women in their mid-50s talking about someone’s child in not-so-kind terms. One of the women said, “Thank God he’s handsome because he doesn’t have anything else going for him!”

He looked at me and clicked his tongue in disapproval. When the two women left, he told me how it irks him when people drag God’s name in conversations concerning a person’s physical appearance; as though God sits in His throne and says, “Let me make this one pretty, that one not-so-attractive, and that one with a face only his mother can love.” He said, and I agreed, that those standards are ours alone, not God’s; because didn’t the Psalmist say we are “fearfully and wonderfully made”?

In a world where gods and goddesses of beauty are admired and placed on pedestals, you often hear parents cooing at their attractive spawns, planting the idea in their heads early on that the “pretty ones” run the world. What happens when these children grow up and find others more physically appealing than they are? 

Plastic surgery is a thriving specialization, despite it being extremely expensive, because a pretty face and a great body is all the rage since time immemorial. From breast augmentations to nose lifts to butt implants, too many people fall for the idea that how they look determines their happiness. Who can blame them when our society is rigged to provide positive reinforcement to those among us who fit its standard of what is beautiful? How many in this generation refresh their Facebook/Instagram news feeds every minute to see how many thumbs ups or hearts they get for their selfies? The adage “what’s essential is invisible to the eye” does not make these kids feel better when their friends’ selfies get a thousand likes and hundreds of “ooohs and aaaahs” and theirs get 5 and a comment from their mom. 

It’s perfectly normal to feel a little puffed up when you look like you stepped out of the cover of GQ or Vogue. You may even want to brag about it. But normal is not as interesting anymore. ;)

Look deeper.