My mom always thought she was ugly.

A piece on how perpetuating beauty standards are a significant detour in our self-esteem journey.

Growing up, I had always seen my mother look in the mirror with disdain, as if she was disappointed in what she saw reflected back rooted in childhood experiences where she felt like an outsider because of her looks and body type. But to me, my mother is the most beautiful woman alive. Her smile lit up a room, and her laugh filled it with joy.

I never understood why she couldn’t see herself through my eyes, instead believing that her looks were a source of shame. Little did I know then that this belief had been passed on from generations before — an ancestral curse of sorts — one which seemed determined to follow me too. Because we are multi-racial, curvy, and off standards, we were forced to believe that we should put more resources and time into our looks, like beauty is a choice and a reward of an insane discipline that enslaves us our entire lives and following a norm is obligatory. That belief was a burden in my family through several generations: not just my mom, but her mom and her grandma felt that way because it’s how the system needs us to feel to profit.

As I grew older, I started to feel less confident about myself when I looked in the mirror, too, seeing more flaws than beauty staring back at me like a stranger’s…