Beauty They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what if that beholder is unable to see beauty, you see I can look at everyone around me and whether they are big, small, fat, skinny, short, or tall I find them to be beautiful, when I look at myself it's almost as if it's an empty stare. What am I supposed to be looking for? There is no glow in my face, no sparkle in my eye, no pep in my step. I'm just me, plain me, and whether I spend hours on my hair or throw a pound of makeup on I still can't change, I can't change the way I see, the way I feel, and the emptiness that appears in the mirror. It's as if someone is looking back at me crying, begging, pleading to come out, trapped by insecurities, trapped by years of words that never seem to go away. And no matter how much I tried to change its still my eyes, my face, myself that I am seeing, and there is no beauty. There is not one person in this world who I consider ugly, what they see as imperfection I see as envy, they don't like their hair, their clothes, their eyes, their lips and here I am staring wondering how. How can they not love what they see in the mirror, how they are so lucky to be gifted with this beauty. When I look at myself there is not one thing I can say I'm happy to have. From head to toe I wish I could change. Be able to change and be satisfied. Sometimes I see it as a curse to not have confidence or self esteem, but then again maybe I'm just not meant to, maybe I'm just meant to see the beauty in others and help them realize the beauty that they have, but jealousy gets the best of me sometimes. I shun away from the unknown in fear of being judged, in fear of being put down, in fear of acceptance. I walk into a room and hope to blend in, I couldn't imagine trying to make a statement. I find comfort in the simplest things and try to stand there and not exist. Afraid of being noticed I do everything I can to blend in. Not speaking, not dancing, not eating, pretending like I don't want to be there. When in reality I wish I could just stand up and be in the middle of the crowd. But instead I hide, because hiding is better than being embarrassed. Like a turtle in its shell, I cower, cower at the thought of having attention. I don't know why I am this way, and I don't know if there is anyone who feels the same, and I don't know why I can't see beauty in myself but I can in everyone else. But I do know that I can't change even if I tried and that's what scares me the most.