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Jakarta Post

Your letters: Death becomes her

As I read the news on the recent untimely death of a Venezuelan girl due to unsafe silicon injections and how that country is trapped in a culture of beauty, my heart mourned

The Jakarta Post
Sat, January 11, 2014

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Your letters: Death becomes her

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s I read the news on the recent untimely death of a Venezuelan girl due to unsafe silicon injections and how that country is trapped in a culture of beauty, my heart mourned. I could relate her '€œill-advised action'€ to my own and to women all across the globe in general.

We, girls, grow up honestly believing that we have to look like something that comes out of fashion magazines, movies and ads. Even fairy tales portray beauty in such images: Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel and many more. We'€™ve seen them exclusively featuring ideally thin, tall, fair-skinned women as the only happy and desirable ones, zooming in on parts of women'€™s bodies and panning up and down those parts.

In Indonesia, mushrooming skin-care clinics and beauty salons offer a variety of treatments to improve one'€™s looks to meet beauty standards. Hospitals also provide cosmetic plastic surgery. These places are sweet nectar for women.

Months ago, as I lay on the patient'€™s table, squirming in unimaginable pain while my dermatologist applied chemical substances to my face, I thought how the hell did I get here in the first place?

The burning sensation was excruciating. Not to mention the feeling of tens of thousands of tiny red ants and creepy scorpions viciously injecting their venom into my face.

Guess what? The answer is simple and matter-of-fact: I want to have fair skin. But wait!  It'€™s not for pursuing the beauty culture (oops, is that self-denial?), but due to my skin problem. Formerly, I didn'€™t care about the spreading acne and cysts on my face, leaving the pores of the skin to clog with oil and dead skin. My fortress fell to pieces when people I met at the office, on the bus, train or any other public places asked me in concern.

My dermatologist asked me whether I would like to try a '€œpeeling program'€ to correct the scarring associated with acne. After some hesitation, I said '€œWhy not? It'€™s absolutely for health reasons, isn'€™t it?'€ while looking at the ads promoting the program. Once again, my serenity turned upside down.

That'€™s what brought me to that torture chamber. Afterward, I told my dermatologist; never, ever again would I want such an ordeal. As long as my grizzly acne did not come to revisit me, I would be content enough.

Drawing from this personal experience, I don'€™t advocate women purse beauty ideals created and maintained by pop-culture products. Beauty is nothing but a fleeting nature, defeated by age and time. How can we race against time that cuts down and destroys all things that are beautiful? Time causes beauty to fade, people to age and life to end.

So, why bother pursuing such an ideal only to end in vain? Is it worth trading your life and soul for the momentary triumph of being a beauty?

I chose no. I don'€™t want to end up like Dorian Gray or the Venezuelan girl. Flashing my smile, I hammer the wisdom that inner beauty is a dozen times more important than the artificial one of my skin. It is a mantra I cling to tightly.

It sounds too good to be true and naïve, doesn'€™t it? But that'€™s the hardcore truth.

As a wise man once said, '€œIt is beauty that captures your attention; personality captures your heart'€.

Yuni Herlina
Depok, West Java

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