From chasing trends to finally embracing her body on her own terms, her beauty confession is raw and honest.
Beneath all the layers of foundation, serums and moisturisers, we all have a beauty confession about our relationship with, and perceptions of it. As a beauty editor who spends a lot of time discussing products, trends, and beauty routines that promise glow, youth, and healthy skin, I am just as invested in the real stories. The raw and deeply human stories shaping how we see ourselves as women. My Beauty Confession was born from a desire to uncover those stories. Not the abridged versions we share with friends or followers, but the quiet truths we often carry alone.
For me, the ideals of beauty aren’t just about what’s immediately visible or tangible. It can be the first time someone made you feel beautiful, the parts of your body you’ve made peace with, or the parts you still struggle to accept. It’s in the hard-earned lessons from chasing unattainable societal standards and the power of choosing yourself all the time. In a world where image is everything, vulnerability is a quiet revolution. This column is a safe space where real women can be anonymous, honest, and unfiltered.
In this first confession, our subject reflects on how society’s ever-shifting beauty ideals have shaped her body image, self-worth, and resilience. Once deemed as “too skinny”, she is now being praised as “thickness goals.” She shares her journey of letting go of trends and defining beauty on her own terms—a confession that just might be what someone else needs to hear.
How her view of beauty has evolved over the years
“I grew up around a lot of magazines, and cover girls were the standard,” she states. We all remember the era where beauty meant thin, sophisticated, and always photoshoot-ready. As someone who fit that slim description, she was “goals.” But the compliments weren’t always flattering, especially from people whose opinions mattered to her.
“I was constantly teased with comments like ‘breeze will carry you.’” The words ring true for me as well. As someone who also grew up skinny, I remember people constantly swaying my body and asking, “Don’t you eat?” The reactions would go from praising me as the next Agbani Darego to veiled comments on how I looked like I was starving. So, I understand why it didn’t matter that she fit the beauty aesthetic of that time; what mattered was the absence of feeling empowered and welcomed. It’s a confusing place to be as a growing woman.
Years later, her body has changed. “I’m not overweight, but I’m not a size 6 any more,” she shares. Now the “compliments” have shifted to referring to her as “thickness goals.” Again, the world is so eager to define her beauty with the current standards.
Now, she’s no longer interested in keeping up with all that. “None of it interests me any more. I just keep my beauty goals to what works for me.” She points out how society constantly swings between glorifying BBL bodies and celebrating Ozempic-fueled weight loss. “I do me, and leave the physique trends alone.”
A beauty confession about how she sees herself
“I was more of a people pleaser than I cared to admit,” she confesses. For a long time, how she presented herself—her beauty and choices—was shaped by others’ expectations.
She’s not alone. For many of us, people-pleasing is often disguised as politeness, but it runs deeper in reality. This trait subconsciously affects how we present ourselves, especially our beauty choices. From hair to makeup to beauty enhancements, our appearance often becomes a performance shaped by societal expectations. Admitting that you are or used to be a people pleaser uncovers the emotional labour many of us carry. It’s the pressure to be desirable and acceptable, by loved ones or even strangers.
“I’m not that any more, but I can talk about those moments without a lump in my throat.” To outgrow this, and to speak of it without pain or shame, is a sign of healing and a powerful act of self-possession. A reminder that we should live for ourselves, not for applause or acceptance.
A part of her appearance she struggled with—and how she’s embraced it now
“I don’t have wide hips,” she says plainly with no bitterness, only a lingering hope. “I still hope it comes.”
It’s a quiet, vulnerable wish, a reminder that self-love and acceptance can exist alongside desire.
I felt this deeply. We all carry these quiet insecurities and small parts of ourselves we wish we could tweak, even as we learn to love our bodies. For me, it’s my skinny legs. Despite gaining weight, they’ve remained the same, refusing to fill out the way I once imagined they would. Like her, I’ve made peace with them on most days, but there are moments I still wish they matched the thickness of my thighs. And that’s okay. These feelings don’t take away from our confidence; they humanise it.
Her honesty reminds us that we’re not alone in these silent insecurities with our bodies; we’re all figuring it out, gently. You can embrace yourself fully and still long for something more. That, too, is part of the beauty journey.
Beauty confession on the first time she felt beautiful, and why that moment stuck with her
If you ask most of us, we might respond with a lover, a birthday photoshoot, or even a filtered selfie. For her, it was a high school friend.
“She ran into me and stopped in her tracks, exclaiming, ‘You are everything!’” The moment stayed with her because it was genuine. There’s something powerful about being really seen by someone who has nothing to gain from it. Her friend’s words weren’t planned; they were pure and unfiltered. That kind of affirmation lingers because sometimes it takes someone else seeing us fully to help see ourselves.
I know what it’s like to feel unsure of your beauty, but I’ve done the internal work to recognise when those feelings are just passing clouds, often due to hormones or exhaustion. I’ve learned not to dwell on them, and like her, I know that when women lift each other with sincere, unexpected kindness, it helps the way we see ourselves.
A truth about beauty she wishes more people understood
“Standards are a good guide, but not a compulsory guide,” she says. It’s a line that should be written across every mirror. I see it as a suggestion, and as long as you’re healthy, there shouldn’t be pressure.
Beauty isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s not always on-trend or flawless. This beauty confession is a reminder that the best form of beauty is the one we define for ourselves.
Ready to share your beauty confessions? Fill out the form here. Whether it’s a memory, a struggle, a ritual, or a revelation, this column is a no-judgment zone. It’s where vulnerability is welcomed, stories are sacred, and no experience is too small or too bold to be told. From childhood insecurities to adult discoveries, we want to hear it all: the good, the hard, the healing.
