I feel beautiful every day but there was a point in my life when I felt the most beautiful. This is because I was amazingly happy. At first it didn’t seem like I had the ability to be happy. I was a thousand miles from home and I just ended things with a guy. I found out that he didn’t think I was special enough to wait around for while I gallivanted abroad for two months. It was devastating for a few minutes. Then my dreary head woke up from its fog and realized: I was in another country. Those days alone in Istanbul rebuilt me and I felt unbreakable and radiant. I no longer held onto the sliver of hope I had that was connecting me to home. I was free. And freedom looked good on me.
I was beautiful despite things happening that told me that I should be sad. I endured a loss of sorts. I was physically and emotionally alone. I was vulnerable but that only meant I was open to the full experience. When I was the most vulnerable, I was the most beautiful. This beauty wasn’t just physical, it was spiritual. People radiated around me because they could feel my soul vibrating. It was at a level of vibration that was attracting others but also made me untouchable. I was without makeup and hair products, things that I based my beauty on. I floated down the streets of Istanbul. I draped my arms on the black, metal fence separating me from the Bosporus. The sun was setting and it bathed me in a golden glow. I almost wanted to contact the guy to thank him for the freedom, but that was unimportant now. At that moment, I was on a path of trajectory that swung me past it all and set out the blueprints of who I am today.