Monday Musings: What Would Life Be Like If I Were That Beautiful?

I was recently at an event for a beauty brand that was founded by a former Miss Universe finalist. One of those queens who actually made it all the way to the top ranks - and let me tell you, she looks exactly like you’d expect. Or maybe even better, come to think of it.

I’m as straight as they come, but I could not stop staring. Her face is perfect. Every angle is symmetrical, her skin looked like it glows from within (I’m guessing both genetics and some serious treatments. But it wasn’t just her face. Everything about her was long – her hair, her neck, her limbs, her torso. Even her posture was elegant. She looked like someone fed a prompt to an AI engine and it came to life!

And while I sipped my cocktail and chatted politely with everyone at my table, I couldn’t help but wonder: What would my life be like if I looked like that?

Not in a self-hating way. I like my face. I’ve spent enough years with it, learning how to play up my features, how to draw attention to my eyes, how to wear blush just right. I know how to look cute! But standing next to someone who is the walking, talking embodiment of society’s beauty ideal? It made me stop to think.

Would people treat me differently? Would they be more patient, more interested in what I have to say, more inclined to trust me with opportunities? I know the answer is probably yes. We’ve all read about the “pretty privilege” thing. It’s real. I’ve seen it. I’ve benefited from it in smaller ways, and I’ve also seen how not fitting into certain beauty standards can mean being overlooked – or worse, underestimated.

But then another thought followed right after: Would I even want that kind of beauty?

It must come with pressure, right? Imagine having to always be “on.” Feeling like your appearance is the first (and maybe only) thing people notice. Would people expect perfection from you, even when you’re tired, sick, or just not in the mood to be beautiful? I don’t know what it’s like to walk into a room and turn heads just by existing. But I do know what it’s like to work on myself – my skin, my confidence, my voice. To build a life where I’m seen for what I say, not just how I look. That’s a different kind of beauty, one I’ve earned.

Still, I won’t lie. I looked at her and thought, “Damn. That must be fun.”

So no, I don’t want to be her. But I’m grateful I got to see her up close. It reminded me that beauty can be captivating, yes, but what stays with people is how you make them feel. And hopefully, I’ve made a few people feel good, whether or not I had the bone structure of a Miss Universe finalist.