Measuring Beauty

Today was a full-day meeting outside of our office. We came back in our lair earlier than usual. All is ok but later on it wasn’t anymore.

I feel bad.

I took a nap thinking that perhaps it would ease that uneasiness, to feel somehow refreshed. But I woke up and feeling was still there. It never went away.

I still couldn’t define exactly how I felt. It’s a mixture of anger, disappointment and hatred.

I grew up with an implication that society has a norm. And being expose to such I respected and thought have accepted it. And I have proven again that norms existed and society still has not changed.

I am may not be the brightest person ever existed, nor the prettiest ever born. I am not Venus, Athena nor Nicole Kidman.

I am fat. Obese in the clinical or even politically speaking (whatever that is). I have love handles (take note of the “s”). I don’t have mestiza blood not have the softest, flawless skin ever. I don’t have the right to wear 2-piece bathing suits or backless, cleavage exposed gowns. But I am comfortable with the way I am.

I have skills. I have brains. I carry myself well… because I know where to put myself.

Beauty is not in the beholder’s eyes but it has long been imposed by some influencial creatures way back in the Philippine history… this is what I strongly believe by experience. Thanks to society itself.

Beauty is measured by the physical feature one endures. It’s always the packaging that matters –– what is initially seen outside the “box”. I, for one, should have understand this. I am a branding consultant. Right now, in my team I am designated with the “physical” look of any of our accounts. I wanted our clients to exclaim and hear “Wow!” from them the moment they see the “box” I made for their product. But now here I am ranting and pouring all my emotions. Don’t get me wrong. Of all the jobs I’ve been, from where I am now is the most fulfilling of all. Mark my word for it. I may not be as financially rich as other people of my age now but I can proudly say my work now makes me feel more relevant. It may be hard to explain but who the hell cares?

It insults me when I get to hear ladies being turned down because of physical look! That men, may it be those jerky ones, partner, friend, project managers or clients prefer those pretty, dumb blonds over skillful, talented ugly ducklings.

I should, of all may it be ladies like me or men known better because I am a branding consultant. It’s all about my work, nothing personal.

But business is personal.

Do I make any sense here? It just hit me again. The truth that society has its “standards” of beauty, may it be in whatever use… beauty did killed the beast, not the brain.

Sex sells.

I am affected. And it hurts a lot. I may not be the direct hit over this event that occurred a few hours ago. My job, my life… and the fact that I epitomize those that can not wear that 2-piece because we are not sexy by standard.

I just have to deal with it.