...like everything would be okay if only you were prettier?
That you'd have the job, the family, the life of your dreams if only your face were clear of acne, your waist nipped in tight, your breasts perfectly round and standing at attention? Like the world's problems would all of the sudden cease to matter to you, the weight of it all wouldn't hang on your shoulders, if only you were a size 4?
And the punches would fall softer if you weren't so soft. The words sting less on toned arms. The drastic uncertainty of the future would be less worrisome, so much less worrisome, if your ass didn't have so much damned cellulite. The storms would pass by calmly, if not for your frizzy hair. Art would be formed to rival all, if not for your dry, bony hands. Your husband would make more money if your eyes were bluer, your lashes darker and longer, your dark circles diminished. And the cats wouldn't shit on the floor if your voice was more melodic, your face more symmetrical, your teeth perfectly straight and aligned with precision in your jaw. The house would be cleaner if you could stop getting distracted by the hair on your big toe, your uneven eyebrows, the dimples in your chin. You'd get more respect, with a more demure gaze, and a shorter stature. No one takes pity on the 5'10" girl when she can't walk a straight line. If you were 5'5" life would be perfect. If you walked with grace, instead of lumbering around like a buffoon, if your feet fit comfortably in peep toe shoes. You'd have children, a flock, all well behaved, if only your skin was a smooth, even, golden hue.
Then again, life would be better if I were a fairy princess too...