I wish beauty wasn't defined by genes and makeup and exercise. But by how beautiful your soul is. And not the idea of goodness and badness. But beauty of the soul, which is a purely different idea. That you got dimples in your cheek if you really happen to love knitting or going cave diving. That your eyes would become deep pools of black ocean water if you knew everything there was to know about astrophysics. That whenever you smile, you'd have another laugh line for every dog and cat you've ever owned. Or your cheeks would flush if you happen to be really good at listening and keeping secrets. Or your hips a little rounder, breasts a little fuller for all the years of maturity you have, not the years you've lived. It feels like physical beauty ends up being the opposite of all those things.
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