I’ve always thought of myself as smart, not pretty. For much of my childhood and adolescence, friends, family, and even strangers would make intrusive comments about my appearance, offering unhelpful advice on how to decrease the width of my hip bones, fix my textured face, or smooth out my thick, curly hair. As a self-proclaimed nerdy feminist who grew up in the “girl boss” era, I would always promptly respond, “I want to be successful, not beautiful.”
It wasn’t until I was older that I realized the two often go together.
