“It’s alright for you. You’re beautiful.”
by Lian Brook-Tyler
“It’s alright for you. You’re beautiful.”
I was on a night out at a cocktail bar and got talking to a woman in the loos. I was reapplying my lipstick. She was telling me she only wears clear balm on hers now… She couldn’t find lipstick that worked for her “too-thin” lips.
I don’t know why, but I offered her mine. And then I found myself offering to do her make-up.
As I was bringing cherries to her cheeks, rose buds to her lips, and Cleopatra to her eyes, she was quietly listing her perceived flaws… the parts she thought made her unattractive, unworthy, un-beautiful.
Then she said it…
“It’s alright for you. You’re beautiful.”
It didn’t seem like the time then, and I didn’t quite have the words, though I tried to help her see what I saw… those breath-taking eyes, coloured like molten dragon scales, and lips that could have been shaped by the brush of Waterhouse, my favourite Pre-Raphaelite master, but what I wish I could have told her is this:
I believe every woman carries a unique kind of beauty. A beauty that can’t be found in trends or symmetry or the shallow gaze of the world. It lives deep in her bones, her lineage, her heart’s longings. And when it’s inhabited, honoured and allowed to actualise fully… it becomes a beauty that doesn’t just look beautiful, it *feels* beautiful to others, but most importantly, to the woman herself.
It’s not only a surface kind of beauty but a deep one that emanates from the very soul - it’s a union of inner and outer beauty.
I wish too that I’d told her she wasn’t just a woman with “too-thin lips.” She was the Enchantress, the Queen, the Wild Woman… all woven into one unique, exquisite, mythic being.
And I also wish I’d told her that I know how she feels. Because once upon a time, I felt it too. That sadness, that envy, and that belief that I was never quite beautiful… or not beautiful enough.
I have so few photos of me in my teenage years, but I do have this one, taken in a photo booth for some kind of college pass.
I’ve joked that I look like a wax-work here, perhaps due to my autistic mind taking the photo guidelines too literally.
I don’t know if you can also see… my discomfort, my lack of confidence, my resistance to being seen, my mind hunting for flaws in my reflection.
I was the kind of woman who might have said to another…
“It’s alright for you. You’re beautiful.”
I wish I could go back and tell her what I know now.
Tell the girl I was.
Tell the woman beside me in the mirror that night.
Tell every woman who has ever felt not enough…
“You’re beautiful too. You just don’t quite see it yet.”
Once upon a time, I wanted to hand women a potion, something that would wake them from the spell that told them they weren’t beautiful.
But I know now, the real magic is in the making… in the remembering, the healing, the reclamation…. And that true beauty is something we alchemise from the heart of the Beauty Wound itself.
The recipe for *that* kind of Beauty Potion, after years of pain, longing, missteps and devotion, is one I’ve finally perfected.
If you’ve ever felt like that woman in the loos… or like the girl I once was… please come join me in Beauty Potion.
You’ll see yourself more clearly and lovingly than ever before.
You’ll come to know and fall in love with the beauty archetypes that are etched into your soul.
You’ll feel at home in your own skin again… or maybe for the first time.
And your beauty - your true, mythic beauty - will awaken and shine through.
We begin soon. I hope you’ll be there.
All my love and beauty blessings,
Li ♥️
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