Who are the beautiful people?
Raising a daughter with a craniofacial condition taught me to look within.
I know who the beautiful people are, even if the majority of our culture does not. They are all around us, sometimes hidden among us, and often scorned and ridiculed, shamed and ostracized. They don't "fit in," but their uniqueness blesses us with a refreshing dose of authenticity.
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(I originally wrote this essay in 2015.)
As I prepared for our trip to Orange County, California, I briefly imagined what I might encounter there: the beautiful people, as they are called. I was vaguely familiar with the OC, based on overhearing tidbits of conversation about the Housewives of Orange County. So it came as no surprise when we walked into a world that nearly resembled a dynasty, carefully packaged in a neat little box with no outliers, no ruffians or hooligans or...people with craniofacial differences.
It felt more awkward than usual to trek outside this glistening, gilded menagerie of plastic surgery walk-in centers, high-end designer shops, and car dealerships I had never before laid my eyes upon: Maseratis and Aston Martins. Most people were of a plastic variety, too: hair perfectly coiffed, makeup carefully applied, and trendy clothing adorning their toned figures.
I quickly learned that my daughter was among the outliers.
We somehow ironically popped the proverbial bubble of glamor when our craniofacial crew arrived from all over the world. And some have more severe craniofacial differences than others. All were noticeable at the least, including Sarah. In the past, I might have avoided public places out of shame and fear of unsolicited attention. In the past, I probably would have wanted to hole up somewhere so that people wouldn't notice my daughter or my friends. Like many people, I like to blend in.
But this time was different. This time I held my head up proudly when we entered restaurants that were quickly silenced with darting glances and muffled murmurs. This time I still saw those stares, but I didn't care. This was my beautiful daughter and our amazing friends. It was about time for us to show Orange County who the beautiful people really are.
That's not to say, of course, that everyone in the OC is snobbish and aloof. It's not to say that no one there greeted us with warmth, but many times the smiles were forced and eye contact was difficult. I noticed, because I used to be a person who chased the American Dream.
And now, instead of chasing a phantom of the cookie cutter life, I am living the dream of my heart. The dream of my heart has always been to see people for who they are rather than for their appearances.
This love of the loner, so to speak, began when I was in high school and noticed kids like Josh with autism who didn't have anyone to talk to or sit with during lunch. So I sat with him and chatted. Sure, it was uncomfortable at first, but then I got to know Josh, and we laughed. He always remembered my name and my birthday, even though I only told him both once. To this day, Josh remembers things about me that I often forget. And the gift is Josh's worldview, the unique perspective of his heart and soul.
That's what Sarah and our craniofacial family share: They are beautiful souls, which radiates in their smiles and laughter. They are generous, talented, loving people who don't think twice about helping those in need. I do not see selfishness when I am with them. I do not see anger at their conditions. I do not see superiority. Their presences are healing forces, because they have always known what it means to see with the eyes of the heart.
Our visual senses can often betray us, but our hearts know when we have found a gem. Our craniofacial family is not one I would have chosen if given the option five or ten—or even three—years ago. I would have been polite and probably made conversation with everyone, but would I have taken the time to love them? Probably not.
These men and women embrace what life hands them without complaint. They are gracious and kind, accepting and warm. They are the "old souls" we may hear about but never get to know, because they carry a torch of emotional maturity and depth of character that supersedes the typical wealthy, healthy, and physically attractive among us.
I know who the beautiful people are, even if the majority of our culture does not. They are all around us, sometimes hidden among us, and often scorned and ridiculed, shamed and ostracized. They don't "fit in," but their uniqueness blesses us with a refreshing dose of authenticity. Their gift is who they are, and society would do well to embrace them rather than shun them.
I want to see the beautiful people in popular magazines as centerfold spreads. I want to see them as role models in the media. I have to believe that eventually America will tire of the perfectly proportionate (aka "airbrushed") models that stream through our consciousness on a daily basis.
Will those with facial differences jolt us out of our drowsy apathy? Absolutely. At first it will feel uncomfortable. But then we will realize the discomfort is within us, not coming from them. They are the faces of love, and love is something this world needs exponentially more than it has right now.
I've come to realize since we returned home to our sleepy, rural Indiana town that I live among the beautiful people. No, not the ones who drive their fancy cars and flash their expensive clothing. Not the ones who live in upscale neighborhoods and visit the spa on a weekly basis. I live among the ordinary folk who are content with less, whose wisdom outshines anything ostentatious I've ever seen, who dwell in harmony with nature.
I am proud to know, love, and honor the beautiful people in my life.
Who are yours?
If you enjoyed reading this essay, feel free to check out other related articles I wrote:
Being Authentic in a Superficial World: Being connected to yourself and both accepting and embracing who you are is at the root of personal integrity.
‘Pretty’ Isn’t Usually Used to Describe My Daughter: Sarah has been called many things—witch, ugly, monster—but only once has another child told her she was pretty.
How Aging Affects my Self-Perception: A reflection on how my concept of beauty changes as I do.
Jeannie, this is a beautiful article. I know you're a great mom and it is this authenticity that you seek that is truly real -- not the airbrushed, plastic people. Why does society determine what is beautiful, anyway? To gain inner happiness, or contentment, we really do need to look within.
I need to remember this -- for myself. I'm a breast cancer survivor who has had major surgeries -- the last one being a 10-hour double mastectomy with reconstruction. The surgeons did a great job, but understandably I have had body image issues. Yet I know that perfection does not exist. I got the surgery to save my life, but I realized that when I was waiting in my plastic surgeon's waiting room, so many people were there for plastic surgery to just plain look good or younger, etc.
Our society does us a disservice when many, many people look outward for what they deem as beautiful, when they should be looking inward. Thank you for another thought-provoking post.
Thank you for the beautiful offering of this piece. My son was born with cleft lip and palate. For his almost 18 years, I have worried about bullying around his underbite, his speech articulation and him looking different than his parents because he is Chinese. I am here to report that he does not let anything stand in his way. Next summer is yet another surgery for his jaw. He is a champ and my forever hero son!