Beauty in Betterment

Sometimes I forget what I look like. When I check, making sure my nose is still in the middle of my face, it's always different than I remember. Sometimes better, sometimes worse: as my mood fluctuates, so does my impression of my lineaments. It's because I hardly look in the mirror. I always know I can do better and it scares me to think that I'm not being seen at my best. This is especially true when I put forth my most zealous effort; for instance, at school when I'm working hard in classes and at the gym, I am generally a sweaty, undone mess-- lazy with my hair and sloppy with what I wear. At work when I try super hard to offer customers the utmost kindness and servitude possible, I feel good about myself. This is probably where my exterior is roughest, and not in a rugged way, but like... Ruff, ruff... Wolf. And usually, I'm returned with treatment based more upon my appearance than my attitude. How can I tell? I assure you it's not paranoia. Days that I wear makeup, I notice a general, over-all curve in response from customers. Studies have shown (so I've heard,) that pretty people are more likely to succeed; if you've ever watched 500 Days of Summer, this is what is referred to as the "Summer Effect." "Attractive" people make more money, get offered better jobs, etc. On a personal aside, since graduating high school, I have lost a descent amount of weight. The overwhelming improvement of my reception from others (it's sad, disheartening, and I've noticed,) can only be explained by the increase of my attractiveness, or what is considered attractive to mainstream society. But don't get me wrong, I don't really care about that. Losing weight is about my lifestyle, not my looks. Okay, that is a lie. Obviously I wish to be well liked, and society has made us all believe that fat, ugly people cannot go as far as symmetrically-faced, toned, tanned bodies. Prime example: my youngest brother is quite the looker. At age 13, Curtis is blonde, thin, tan, and beautiful (don't tell him I said that, his head is figuratively huge.) He resembles Justin Beiber, is a descent actor, popular with girls and boys, and as I've recently discovered, has the voice of an angel (even while it's in the process of changing-- adulthood for the boy's future singing career is promising.) I took head shots of the little heart-throb that my mom brought to a acting agency where he was shot down. Reason? One of his right canines shadows another, an overlapping tooth causing imperfection in the boy enough that he is classified unqualified to be a model, actor... Any hope of becoming famous, lost to one offset tooth.
Now you see why I've tried so hard to catch up with the standards set by my hot family, I must be capable of looking at least as well as they do. Still, I've always liked what I look like, there's no changing my face. I'm confident enough to think I'm mildly attractive, (dare I say... pretty? Once I clean up, I mean,) so I'm not fishing or yearning for compliments. I just wish sometimes that our outer beauty and inner beauty would equate. Times when we were most selfish, we would look slimy and warty, like a witch or a snake. And the most genuine people would look radiant, flawless. I wish we wore our personalities like skin, our experiences like tattoos, our moods like outfits. That way, we wouldn't have to look in the mirror. Self reflection would show enough. People could see the type of person you were without basing their idea on society's ideal, which is pretty unrealistic if you ask me. The desirable would be those good of heart, not those of hot bodies. We'd all better ourselves to better each other, and vice versa. Mirrors would become obsolete and people would just be people, not as they appear. Still, until that day, I'll continue not to let myself down, do my best, and I'll keep my eyes away from the mirror. Maybe then I'll know the genuine from the surface and do better than those who care more about outfits and hairstyles than inside and heart.