At Georgetown University, the masses of beautiful girls feel inescapable. For the most part, the way that they exude beauty is astonishing, but as someone who struggles with my self-image, it’s also suffocating.
When I started my first year at Georgetown, I yearned to become beautiful like those girls. I spent 90 minutes a day carefully curating my outfits, trying out different hairstyles and using makeup to accentuate my eyes and cover my blemishes. Momentarily, I felt pretty.
Comparing myself to my peers reminded me that I still hadn’t managed to become “college-girl” pretty.
My phone, my magazines, my observations of my classmates inundated my head with what college girls should be. College girls are meant to turn heads. Their youthfully mature features are supposed to embody society’s rose-tinted fantasy of emerging adulthood. I didn’t meet that ideal. I struggled with acne, a hallmark of high school, and my favorite hairstyle — two half-up ponytails — was far too immature for a college girl.
If I heard the phrase “college girl” one more time, I was going to spiral. There were times when I felt so debilitated by the pressure of being “college-girl” pretty that I couldn’t get out of bed. During those episodes, I’d recall every college girl I saw who seemed to have it all: the ones who looked so effortlessly flawless in their Aritzia clothing and Goyard bags with their crystal-clear skin, all while making novel, insightful comments during seminar discussions. I’d remember all the claw clips, skincare, Lululemon clothing and hair products I bought in pursuit of what I viewed to be the Georgetown beauty standard.
One day, I noticed a girl in my first-year seminar rocking one of the prettiest outfits I’d ever seen: a dark blue fitted top, a loose white maxi skirt, brown sandals and glasses. I loved the way she walked in with a purpose, not caring if her outfit was too dressy to be “college-girl” casual. After I looked around the room, I noticed that despite the spectrum of styles — from no makeup to a full face, from sweatpants to flared dress pants — there wasn’t a single look I didn’t like. I realized that there isn’t one single beauty standard at Georgetown.
Georgetown students come in all shapes and sizes with unique personal styles; what they have in common is that they exude beauty through their confidence. We must dispel the notion that Georgetown has one homogenous beauty standard and realize that confidence is beauty.
For me, I developed confidence through self-care. Despite the insecurity I felt scrolling through pages of extraordinarily pretty girls having the times of their lives at Georgetown, I found inspiration from college-aged wellness influencers. I was hooked. I loved watching these girls wake up early, take morning walks, stay hydrated and do hair and makeup all for themselves.
I realized that to build confidence, I needed to work on myself, absent of what the “college-girl” pretty standard wanted me to be. I began to plan outfits, joyfully curating the aesthetic I wanted to convey instead of attempting to fit into a mold. I put together a motivational morning routine playlist and replaced my insecurities with positive self-talk.
With my new perception of beauty, I viewed the masses of beautiful girls at Georgetown in a different light. The reality of Georgetown girls significantly deviated from the image I once had of them. There is no one mold of beauty. While I still pass what people would consider to be the “college-girl” pretty, I delight in the fact that everyone is equally beautiful. The Georgetown campus is overflowing with a diverse community who all look beautiful because of their confidence: how they present themselves and their personal styles with no fear. From ponytails to blowouts, lavish off-shoulder tops to solid-colored t-shirts, their ability to boldly convey their individuality makes every aesthetic beautiful.
In learning to take care of myself, I’ve developed my own take on the cliche “beauty comes from within.” I believe that inner beauty translates into outer beauty: how we poise ourselves, how confidently we express who we are through hair, makeup and fashion. Instead of discarding our focus on outward appearances, let’s instead aim to cultivate the best version of ourselves and admire how it manifests on the outside.
Julia Nguyen is a first-year in the College of Arts & Sciences. This is the second installment of her new column “The Complexities of Coming of Age.”