Let’s just get one thing straight: you aren’t ugly.

I don’t care what your seventh grade bully said. I don’t care what the mirror whispers to you when you are pinching your stomach before a shower. I don’t care what society has tried to convince you. You were never the problem. Society sold you a version of beauty that thrives off your insecurities. They told you that worth came from being chosen and they were dead wrong.

You were never ugly. You were just lied to. We all were.

I don’t know when this war with ourselves started. Maybe it was the first time someone called us pretty for a specific reason. Maybe it was when no one picked us. Maybe it was when they did pick us, but only when there were no eyes watching. I swear somewhere between Barbie dolls and adulthood these unspoken pressures fed us this idea that beauty was something outside of us. Something we had to chase. Something we had to earn. Something we could lose.

I wish someone had told little me that beauty had nothing to do with how I looked. It didn’t matter how my hair looked or how thick the gap between my thighs was or how crooked my teeth were. The acne at 13 and the stretch marks at 20 never mattered. I wish someone told me that beauty lives in your heart.

We throw the word beautiful around as if it’s some title you have to work for, like it belongs to you only after you earn it. And how do we earn it? By fitting into the world’s constantly shifting standards. But the truth is, beauty isn’t something you wear but something you just are. It’s the way you may laugh so hard you snort uncontrollably. The way you light up when you talk about something you love. The way you show up for others whenever they need you. The way you hug people tight like you mean it. How you talk to your pet like they’re your whole world. It’s not photoshopped nor is it you with a filter slapped on. It’s never been about your waistline or bone structure. It’s how you carry your friends when they can’t carry themselves. It’s the fact that you keep trying, even when you’re tired, even when the world has been absolutely ruthless. It’s about the kindness found in your heart.

That’s the kind of beauty that matters. But yet nobody teaches us that. Instead, we’re taught to chase perfection. To shrink yourself and starve yourself to fit this idea of beauty. Be less loud. Be more appealing. More digestible. Small. We see our bodies as problems we must solve, not homes to be cherished. And then we wonder why so many people hate themselves in silence. Why kids stop eating, stop speaking, stop trying. Why adults still cry when they catch a glimpse of themselves in a changing room mirror. Why are we constantly asking, “Am I enough yet?” when we were always more than enough: we were just taught to forget. It’s bullshit.

Because here’s the raw truth, babe: nobody is too fat, too thin, too anything. We are not ingredients to be measured. You are not a “before” picture. You don’t need to fix yourself to be lovable. You’re not a project. You’re a person. A beautiful, chaotic, deeply feeling, flawed, brilliant person. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then start beholding yourself better. You’re hot. You’re rare. You’re powerful. You’ve got stories inside you that would make people weep. You’ve survived heartbreaks that shattered you. You’ve danced through darkness and made it to mornings you didn’t think you’d see.

Imagine if we stopped picking apart our reflections and started picking apart why we were taught to in the first place. Imagine if we raised girls to believe they’re art even when they’re messy, even when they cry, even when they laugh too loud in public and snort. Imagine if little boys grew up knowing that gentleness is strength, that kindness is magnetic, that vulnerability is powerful. Imagine if beauty wasn’t a competition, but a constant.

So no, no one is truly ugly. That word doesn’t mean what we think it does. Ugly is a cruel heart. Ugly is turning away when someone’s in pain. Ugly is mocking what you don’t understand. But your cellulite? Your birthmarks? Your nose you used to hate? Not ugly. Not even close. Just human. Just real. Just you.

Maybe no one told you that enough. Maybe they told you the opposite. Maybe the world hardened you, made you bitter, made you hate yourself. But it’s not too late. You can unlearn all of it. You can look at your reflection and choose to love the person staring back — not because they’re perfect, but because they’re you. And you’ve survived so much.

You’re exhausted. You’re over it. You’ve been gaslit by an entire industry that profits off your self-hate. Stop letting the world convince you that you need to be fixed. You don’t. You never did. But that ends today. We’re not shrinking anymore. We’re not numbing or apologizing or contorting ourselves to make other people comfortable. We’re choosing softness and chaos and authenticity. We’re being loud about our healing. We’re hyping each other up in bar bathrooms. We’re telling our inner child she’s a masterpiece. We’re taking up space like we were always meant to.

And if the world has a problem with that? Well. That sounds like their trauma to unpack. It’s time for them to book a couple’s therapy session with their insecurities.

So slow down. Breathe. Touch grass. Cry in the shower. Laugh with your whole body. Eat your favorite food and don’t apologize. Say thank you when someone calls you beautiful and believe them.

Because you are.

You always were.

You just forgot.

But I hope today, you remember. And I hope you never forget again.

Keep Spilling Babes, xx.