With my confidence to bolster me, I reach the mountain I climb in my dreams. I trained, I studied, I did all I could to prepare for this ascent. Everyone knows I will reach the peak, I earned it.

But I don't. I fall. I fall again. And again. Each time I fall, I lose something I needed to reach the top. At the final fall, I lose hope.

A unique form of "lost" plagues me. I know where I wish to go but it is out of my reach. The destination was all I had. I wait for the universe to take pity. I did all that was asked of me and more, why do I not deserve mercy?

I realize I will wait forever. No matter how far I trek, the mountain's shadow will cover me. Yet, I must leave the mountain behind.

I forfeit. The hardest thing to do, the thing I was raised to refuse. Not if I cry, not if I bleed.

I retrace my steps until I find myself in the past. A passionate child with an imagination. She will walk on Venus. She will invent a new source of energy. She will save the whales. She will climb the mountain.

Except she won't. So I tell her so.

She argues with me but eventually accepts it. But she doesn't dismay. She will still walk on Venus, invent a new source of energy, save the whales, and run a science fair.

When I am lost, I find this little girl. She reminds me failure is not the end.

I see it every single day. On good days... On bad days... It’s still painful but the pain has grown familiar after four years.

We were running to each other, so excited to embrace... Then she fell. I think I screamed her name but sounds are faint in my recollection. What haunts me were her eyes. Gone was everything I knew about her. My best friend, gone.

It seemed to take far too long to get her help. On the ride to the emergency room, I stayed at her side. She was unresponsive and, though I tried to hope, I think I knew I was going to lose her. I could see it in her eyes.

Stroke, they told us. It didn’t seem real, she was athletic and ate well. I had to wait outside the room for hours. When I finally got to see her, it was to say goodbye to a body without a consciousness. I had to be removed because I couldn’t let her go, even after watching her body join her mind. I wanted so badly for her to jump up and shock modern medicine. It might be silly, but I still feel guilty for leaving her body. Even more, I blame myself for her stroke. If I hadn’t gotten her excited, maybe she could have been around a little longer.

I miss her so much. I’ll always love you, MK.

An existence where I am bare, where my mask crumbles and they see me for what I am. My truth is found and they all know. They tear me from the machine. Without its friction, I am cold. I am alone. From my frigid solitude, I watch the gears turn. The machine functions perfectly without me. I was unnecessary, expendable. I will not be missed.

Anxiety and perfectionism have always haunted me. I scored low on a critical exam because I had an anxiety attack. I missed a chance at my dream career because my mask cracked. I almost lost my life to my demons. I have infinite reasons to hate myself for getting in the way.

But I came to realize how unfair I was being. I wasn’t trying to love myself. So I wrote myself as a character. Reading her story, I couldn’t hate her. She sabotaged herself… But she was just scared. She didn’t know how to get help or when to stand up for herself.

I created a friend for this lonely girl. Someone kind, brave, and understanding. A woman who gave her permission to be imperfect.

I try to be this woman for myself. Sometimes I do a poor job, but I forgive it. Slowly, very slowly, these characters are becoming one. I’ll always have moments of weakness but I’ve learned to love myself enough to believe I deserve another chance.

There comes a day where childish innocence succumbs to the pressures of adulthood. Where dreams become foolish and differences are taboo. To survive this cruel transition, one must make determinations of self. Career alignment assessments, personality tests, and other evaluations can facilitate this self-discovery. Yet, youth is unsupported in discovering one great unknown: Am I beautiful?

To determine one’s own beauty, it must first be decided what beauty is. In a generic definition, beauty is the presence of an aesthetically pleasing quality. Beauty, no doubt, is a positive trait to most. Beautiful people seem to be cherished and complimented. Is it not expected for curious youth to, therefore, compare themselves to those they are told are attractive? Should a young person look to others, they are then faced with several more unknowns.

Money and beauty are entangled in a peculiar affair. Historically, many cultures espoused a belief that blood should be kept “pure” and bred incestuously for this conviction; deformities became common among these aristocrats. By popular opinion, deformities do not increase one’s likelihood of being beautiful. Despite this, there are accounts of the aesthetically pleasing qualities of the rich of the past. Forward to the modern day, it seems more wealthy individuals are considered beautiful. Enter an unknown: Can beauty be bought? The wealthy can afford finer clothes, hair care, wigs, makeup, plastic surgery, and other enhancers. Has an admiration of the rich transformed the concept of beauty to that of which is only attainable at great price?

This great price may extend beyond money and to effort itself. One quickly learns pictures show a single version of the truth. Even so, it is difficult for any mind to scrutinize a photo for deception. Applications and programs can drastically alter one’s appearance and skilled artists can use makeup as effectively as a mask. CGI models are arriving in the mainstream, further bringing into question another unknown: Is beauty natural?

Unfazed by the current standard of beauty, some deviate from society’s norms while still receiving praise. They are admired and commended for not only how they look, but how they behave. Here one may realize that those aligning with mainstream beauty have something in common with those mentioned above: Confidence. Shameless, proud, fierce, and bold, they believe themselves to be beautiful. If beauty is to be besieged, they are the conquerers. An unknown presents itself, calling into question if beauty is a state of physicality or a state of mind: Is beauty a decision?

If one looks up from the hoards of same-faced photos altered by technique and technology, something curious can be found. All around, people smile with each other. Elderly couples, well past their aesthetic prime, ignore a poster of a perfect CGI model to gaze into each other’s eyes. Parents lovingly wipe food from their children’s messy faces. Best friends hold each other when tears must escape. Beauty is the presence of an aesthetically pleasing quality. Is it not with great pleasure one see’s a loved one? Some, in time, may come upon an unknown which allows everyone to be beautiful: Am I beautiful because I am loved?