To me, beauty is:

I was always told I was pretty, and it meant nothing to me. How could it? Every day I was being abused. Somebody thought I was so beautiful that they were intent on destroying me. I would rather have a beautiful life. I have worked hard to obtain such a life. Beauty is what leaves you gasping. Beauty is when my daughter held a dying man’s hand in palliative care when she was three years old, and bowed her little head as she said a prayer. You can’t script such a beautiful event. She just did it. Beautiful is how you feel when released from a body cast and have bathed your battered body. Beautiful is how you feel when someone compliments you and beautiful is how it feels when a friend embraces you. My child is an artist, compassionate, an animal lover, an environmentalist. She has a beautiful heart and a beautiful mind and a beautiful spirit. She would not like to be reduced to being “a pretty little girl,” and I am not awfully keen on reducing her! Beauty comprises so many facets, like a diamond. It is not one-dimensional, nor are we. I have a beautiful life, and that makes me feel beautiful indeed.