There is a pivotal scene in Battlestar Galactica, season and episode 4, where a bloodied and beaten Gaius Baltar declares to his conclave of women “God only loves that which is perfect, and He loves You. Because You are all perfect. Just as you are! You are perfect, just as you are!” and the crowd erupts in tears and joy.
Tonight, I had the great privilege to witness two gorgeous women tell each other that they were pretty, and then reply in turn “You’re pretty. No, no. you are.”
Beauty, obviously, is subjective—across cultures, across friend groups, across personal goddamn preferences. But to me, what is more attractive than any other quality is the ability to say “I am pretty. I am gorgeous, and goddamn it, you can deal with it or you can go home.”
That self-consciousness, that refusal to abide by any cultural sensibility (and believe me, the two women in question would’ve been deemed beautiful by any sane, straight panel of heterosexual males or homosexual females, from any culture) is insanely awesome. The self-confidence to say “Yeah. You know what? I’m pretty. I’m fucking gorgeous. And far more importantly, I am me. You can laugh with me or go to hell”, that is fantastic. Drunk, sober, these things are of scant importance. You are perfect, just as you are, and you have the moxie to say so. That is absolutely fantastic.
(Disclaimer: this post was written under the influence of intoxicating beverages. That does not invalidate any declaration that the poster makes; rather, it makes it more true, because it gives the poster the bravado to post whatever the hell he feels like and say whatever he decides is correct. This is. He is about to. May you enjoy this and all time-continuum-logical posts in the past or future.)