How I view insecurity
Beauty standards are real, but many of today's trends feel less like rules and more like preferences. At some point, it helps to remember that when people talk about what they find attractive, they're usually describing their own tastes—not handing out instructions for how everyone should look. One man likes blondes. Another prefers brunettes. Some people are drawn to thin bodies,
others to curvier ones. A preference is not a moral statement. It doesn't make someone cruel, shallow, or evil. It's simply what they happen to find appealing.
The real struggle often comes from insecurity.
We convince ourselves that if enough people like something, then everyone must like it. Someone buys the designer bag, changes their hair, follows every trend, and still feels anxious because approval never seems complete. The moment one trend fades, another takes its place. Then panic sets in: The beauty standard changed. Now I have to reinvent myself again.
But did the standard really change, or are we chasing validation from people we've never met?
Imagine Samantha spending money on a luxury handbag and dyeing her hair blonde because she believes that's what everyone wants. Then her friend Candice casually says she isn't really into blonde hair. Samantha is stunned.
How can that be? Doesn't society love blondes? But Candice shrugs. "I'm not society. I'm me." That's the part people forget. There is no giant, unified audience with a single opinion. There are billions of individuals, each carrying their own tastes, experiences, and attractions.
Companies understand this. That's why they talk about target audiences. A chocolate company doesn't waste time trying to convince people who hate chocolate to love it. It focuses on the people who already enjoy it. Yet when it comes to ourselves, many of us try to appeal to everyone at once—an impossible task.
A teenager might hear that a boy she likes prefers short hair and immediately rush to change her appearance. But when she finally cuts it, he says, "You didn't have to do that." He liked short hair, sure, but he never demanded she become someone else. The pressure came from her own fear that she wasn't enough as she was.
That's what happens so often. We blame society for expectations that no one actually placed on us. Some people do pressure others, and those experiences can leave real scars. But most strangers are not scrutinizing every detail of our appearance. They're busy worrying about themselves.
Walk through a high school hallway and you'll see it in action. One student loves your dress. Another hates it. Neither reaction changes who you are. The person who dislikes it may still be kind, friendly, and respectful. They just don't like the dress. Disliking an outfit is not the same as disliking the person wearing it.
The same principle applies to attraction. Someone can care deeply about a person without finding every aspect of them sexually attractive. Love and attraction are typically connected, but they are not identical. People can experience one without the other. Some fall in love without strong or any sexual attraction/lust. Others experience sexual attraction and lust without ever developing love. Human emotions are far more complicated than a simple checklist of physical traits.
The problem is that many people become trapped in an endless performance, constantly adjusting themselves to earn approval. They chase trends, compare themselves to strangers, and treat beauty like a competition with no finish line. Meanwhile, they forget a simple truth: beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. What makes one person's heart skip a beat might leave another completely indifferent.
That doesn't make either person wrong.
A man who likes blonde women isn't attacking brunettes. A woman who prefers slim men isn't insulting everyone else. Attraction isn't a conscious choice most of the time. People can choose how they treat others, but they can't simply switch their preferences on and off.
Sometimes the pursuit of beauty becomes so intense that it stops being about other people altogether. Trends emerge that many people never asked for, yet individuals pursue them anyway because they are captivated by the idea of becoming more beautiful. The goal shifts from being accepted to being admired, envied, or seen as the most attractive person in the room.
That's why the chase never ends.
The healthiest realization is that not everyone needs to like you. Not everyone will find you attractive. Not everyone will love your clothes, your hair, or your style. And that's okay. The world isn't a panel of judges holding up scorecards. It's a crowd of individuals with different tastes.
You don't need universal approval to have value. You don't need every head to turn when you enter a room. Trying to impress everyone is exhausting because everyone wants something different. The moment you accept that, the pressure begins to fade. Instead of asking, "How do I make everyone like me?" you can ask a much better question:
"Do I like who I am?"
