Beautiful in My Eyes There’s a new challenge: “Me in 2016 vs. 2026” I look back at pictures of myself from over a decade ago. I see a beautiful girl. For all intents and purposes, she looks confident. Funny. Witty. Unafraid of being herself. She posts pictures of charcuterie boards and nature walks with friends. Of sipping UV blue between mosh pits and flirting with the drummer. But I know her deeply. She was sick and scared. Going on drives all alone to parse out life. Taking selfies to get validation from the folks online. Waiting for a text from a boy or her friends to give her life purpose again. Taking diet pills and living on Slims Jims and a 64-oz gas station Coca-Cola. Her mind was like a broken cassette tape, looped with intrusive thoughts and panic about the future. Everything felt out of control, and she knew if she could control how she looked, maybe things would be okay. She was young and naïve outsourcing her self-worth to people who didn’t care about her. Always hoping that achieving the next stepping stone would prove that she was finally enough.
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