Some days I do, but not often enough has it been for the right reasons. It has always been performed with someone else's gaze in mind, always with the intent of pleasing another person. The standards of beauty morph too quickly for any of us to meet them perfectly, and trying so hard only damages us psychologically in ways history has never seen.
I am a woman. I am above all a human, and sometimes I am ugly. Sometimes I am angry, sad and crying with snot lining my nose and my face. I no longer want to worry about being perpetually "pretty", when going through such things or doing nothing at all.
I do not strive to be desirable every second of every day.
Every day there is pressure, every day there is inner conflict and negotiations with myself, figuring out who I am, what my desires are, how I aim to be perceived. Anxiety, constantly so high, oftentimes I don't want to be perceived at all- I don't want to be pretty anymore.
Sometimes I need to be ugly, gross, and mean, just like you. I'm not perfect, and I reject the societal burden to be by radically embracing the unsightliest sides of myself, accepting every single "unlikable" part of my body, and realizing that these words, these arbitrary ideals and erraric requirements have no palpable power over me if I do not want them to.
I found my freedom and potential in not being liked by everyone, and relief in it being utterly and ultimately impossible.
"Meet me out in our childhood ruins. We can excavate the home we grew up in; kick up energy, history, dust and old spirits, the secrets under our stunted skin- we'll seek them and learn to live again, we'll retrieve all we've forgotten- memories resting in washed up coffins start convulsing within their margins, their roaring, unreachable engines starting up after years in the dark; they startle you and shake your heart, but you must not let it freeze over again, you must not let the amnesia win. I promise you, my dear, if you follow me, closer to yourself than you ever could be- you will find what you so desperately seek, if you're brave enough to let it in; your weary brain can finally begin releasing all the horror it's seen.