Positive or negative body image does not happen by chance. Although each of us sees their image in a woman through their own eyes, it is a reflection of the impressions, thoughts, and behaviors we experienced in the early stages of our lives, each of them being a mirror through which we see our image.

When I was a little girl, I fell in love with Barbie - her long hair, her well-proportioned body, her rosy lips, and her shiny dresses. I always dreamed of being Barbie, so I pretended to be her in my home, but!

As I grew up, the mirror became my friend. I would question it daily: "Am I beautiful?!"

I would wake up in the morning to look at my tired face, trying to hide the pimples, dark circles, and signs of staying up late, only to end up canceling my plans because my skin looked exhausted!

I would stand on the scale three times a day, anxious about a few extra kilograms, after browsing celebrity photos and thinking about getting lip fillers for my small lips. 

It became a daily routine for me to think about getting a nose job and chin definition like one of the actresses I admire. I also became skilled at hiding my fatigue during my menstrual cycle and controlling my emotions for fear that someone would mock my hormones.

My obsession with meeting society's beauty standards made me compare myself to one of them during a women's gathering.

As a supposedly sensible person, I refused to continue with this routine for long. I realized that I am not Barbie and will never be. The mission of physical perfection is a difficult, tiring, and sometimes impossible task. We women will not look like the ones we love unless we fall in love with our flaws.

My desire to change my routine made me ask my friend, the mirror, what it means to be beautiful.

Sometimes she would answer, "The beauty of the soul," and other times, "The beauty of the body."

But does physical beauty make us forget the ugliness of the soul, or does it not compensate for the beauty of the soul?

Have social media and its influencers turned us into identical molds and wax statues?

Society has imposed specific beauty standards that have deprived us as women of freely expressing ourselves, making our relationship with our bodies and our nature a harmful, expired one. Our main concern has become to have plump lips, clear skin, big eyes with defined facial features, in order to win the title of "beautiful," to the point where we have all become identical copies of women adhering to the same standards.

The poet Nizar Qabbani always stole my heart when he flirted with Balqis and her beauty, portraying her as the most beautiful woman in the universe. Was she really the most beautiful, or did love depict her that way? More importantly, what does it mean for a woman to be beautiful? I was not convinced by the so-called "herd mentality" and walking in one direction. I have always walked against the current, seeking to break stereotypes. My curiosity once again prompted my imagination to change the equation. Instead of answering the last question I posed, I stood confidently in front of my mirror and asked it: "Is there an ugly woman?"

I can almost swear that for many years, I haven't noticed the beauty of my faded eyes, my pale face, and my unkempt hair. I thought that what came before was a complete recipe for me to discover my uniqueness and beauty. I realized then that when a woman loves herself and reconciles with her body, she can look at her mirror with confidence and shout, "I am beautiful!" More importantly, to me, there is no beautiful woman and another ugly one, but rather a failure and a success, and she is the most beautiful in my view.

Going back to "but," I decided to become like Disney princesses, but in my own version – the one that resembles me without the standards and measures imposed by society, for I do not rely on a catalog.