I have never been a looker - a "kindly" relative told me as a teenager that I was lucky I had brains because my sister had gotten all the looks. It never really bothered me as there is a freedom in not being valued for your looks - my beautiful - because she is- and incredibly lovely sister had a hells life experiencing huge amounts of bullying from females and sexual harassment and aggression from males.
I bumbled along in my not beautiful but not hideous way quite happily until after a huge amount of stress and a short illness I developed chronic psoriasis and as a specially bonus psoriatic arthritis as a consequence of barely being able to move I piled on weight, my waist length hair which was my one beauty started coming out in handfuls as my scalp was so badly affected - as a result I had to have it cut much shorter it was the only time I really wept. I will only wear clothes that cover ever inch or my body as 80% of my body is covered in red. sore, ugly patches. I felt disgusting and looked worse. I had no control over my body and it was both miserable and painful.
Perfect strangers will approach me and offer suggestions for treatments and cures because I cannot hide my face or hands, I know they mean to be kind but on bad days it makes me feel self conscious
But I am not defined by how I look I refuse to be. in truth I never have been - yes given the choice I wish my skin was clear and the pain would go but I have never wished for beauty. at my worst both looks and emotionally I met the man I will soon marry who when I am at my lowest and raging about being a fat, useless, crippled leper looks perplexed and tells me I'm perfect, he makes me incredibly happy. I am blessed with good friends who don't care about how I look but how I behave, I have family I love and who love me
I choose to believe I'm lucky many people have worse health issues, many people have terminal illnesses, there are worse things in life than being ugly I have never been hit. hurt, abused, hungry, homeless, poor. I have never suffered tragedy, war, famine or persecution. Being ugly and having a disfiguring illness does not prevent me from appreciating beauty in music, art, literature and in the faces of my friends. It makes it harder to do some things but it does not limit my life.
There is such immense pressure on women in particular to be defined by their looks. I think it warps the way we look at ourselves, how we feel about ourselves and how we value ourselves. I have had friends who are utterly stunning pick themselves to pieces over some perceived flaw that does not exist. You are always more beautiful than you see yourself in a mirror. Looks change but there is beauty in maturing - milk is lovely but so is a good mature cheddar :)