You'll never be more beautiful than when you're truly happy

Let’s take a picture. It has to be a selfie. Up close. Whoa, not that close. Hold the camera up high, give the image someone would see if looking down at you. Okay, good, set. Tilt your head to the side and back. Not that far back! Don’t strain your neck so much, it gives you a double chin. Okay, chin, yes. Chin up. No, no, no! It looks like you’re being pulled back by the hair. Hair, right! Speaking of hair, pull a couple of strands loose; you know, to give the impression of leisurely carelessness. As if there’s a breeze or something. (Never mind that you’re indoors, go stand by a window. Natural light will make the picture better anyway. Oh! And don’t forget the white wall in the background!) 

Arch your eyebrow. Good, good. Bitch mode on. Wait! No! Bad idea; he’ll see it and that’s not the message you want to convey. What will it be today? Classy Lady? Bohemian? Hippie? Sensual seductress? “Fuck the world” rebel? Gleeful, careless, childlike girl? What would he like? Cute, yes, cute.

Smile a bit, not too widely, you’re not in a toothpaste ad. Wait, no smiles, you want to look serious as well as sexy. Pucker up. Not too much; duck faces are so 2016. There… perfect!

Click, click. Test a couple more poses. Click, click. Again. There you go. Now… filters…

Oh and dear lord don’t forget that sophisticated quote! “Dum spiro, spero” or “Vini, Vidi, Vici” – or whatever. Maybe Shakespeare; Shakespeare is always deep. Because, of course, when that philosopher was writing that specific quote he knew that one day it would caption a duck face selfie. Unless of course, it’s “All I know is that I know nothing.” Because if anything is accurate, I would say that’s it. Heavens forbid someone thinks you’re a bimbo. No, you’re smart and you’ve just proven it – you just took the most perfectly deceptive picture of the week. Or –why be modest now?–  it just might be the best of the month.

You know what — fuck this shit!

Is there really a reason for this analysis and all these dilemmas? I see no reason behind taking selfies. Photos are for capturing memories, moments in time that are so precious they shouldn’t be forgotten. In ten years’ time will you give a shit about that shade of lipstick or that blouse you were wearing? Will you even care about the person you took it for? The one you hoped would see it, the one you checked your phone every three minutes to see if they liked it or reacted to it?

The point is that the person in that picture is not you; not the real you. And whoever is reacting to it, is reacting to your deception; without realizing –or acknowledging– it. They’re not “like-ing”, “love-ing” or “wow-ing” you.

The world is full of cheap photocopies, and the unique is now viewed, not as something special, but as something strange, an abomination, something no one understands and has no inclination to understand. Deception and the fake is in, honesty and the natural is out. Everybody knows that. Right? So, you try your best to be the best version of the photocopy you can be, sell the best deception of bliss, make your cover the most appealing of all; just so that you can get the attention of someone who’s more into covers than into content.

Just as when you turn the pages of a book, not focusing on the letters and words on the paper, just the designs black makes on a white canvas. Open any book, on any page; it all looks the same. Until you take a closer look and try to discern the words written on them. And as you read each paragraph, each page, each chapter, other worlds fold out in the ink.

Speaking of books; “Don’t judge a book by its cover” they say. The thing is, sometimes people only get to see the cover. They only get to see what’s on the outside, what a picture might say to them. And just to be over the top and use yet another cliché, “A picture is worth a thousand words”. (… And a fake smile is worth 100 likes, I’ll add.) The words you’re trying to yell, paradoxically, are being drowned out by the whispers of what really is written all over your face. And the one staring at the picture, if they really care, will only hear the whispers.

The ones that can tell the difference between your fake smile and your real one deserve your love just a little bit more than everyone else. They know you best, they’ve taken out the time to read your pages instead of just marveling at your cover. And they couldn’t give a shit about your rehearsed happiness in those selfies.

I want you to do something.

I want you to think back to a time when you were genuinely and truly happy. I mean, blissfully out of this world, head over heals, happy. Now, I want you to go through your photos around that time. Scroll through Facebook, take out your photo albums, look through your phone; whatever. Find that picture, the one in which you’re really you, in bliss, true giddy smile on your face. You know “the coat-hanger-smile” as one of my best friends once put it.

Now, look in the mirror. Are you looking at the same person? Overlook the fact that you may be a bit older, or tired, or just a mess – because, hey, there’s a good chance you’re exhausted and over-worked– look at your eyes. Smile. Look at your smile. Look at that selfie you just took. In which one are you really more beautiful?

All of us are guilty of trying to feign happiness in a picture. It’s not vanity. Deep down I think that it’s the hope that, if you try hard enough, eventually, you just might become happy enough to not have to fake it. It’s capturing a moment in time representing not reality, but the image you desire for yourself; the one you want people to see because it’s the closest thing to the real you they can get at the moment.

It doesn’t matter how much you plaster your face with makeup. It doesn’t matter how many times you rehearse that fake ass smile in the mirror. You will never be as beautiful as when you are truly happy. And the reason behind that is quite simple.

Just as real beauty can’t be manufactured, neither can true happiness. When you’re happy, you’re not looking at the lense; you don’t care about it. You’re only looking at the one who’s cracked that cover and is whispering the words on the pages.