Apparently, loving yourself comes with terms and conditions now.
Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I edit and filter pictures and videos of myself because I want to. And I don’t give a damn.
There. I said it.
Somewhere along the way, society decided that if a woman edits her pictures, she must secretly hate herself. That every beauty filter is a cry for help, every softened wrinkle is insecurity, and every slightly altered selfie is evidence of some deep-rooted self-esteem problem.
Girl, please.
Sometimes, I just want my skin to glow, my makeup to look flawless, and my cheeks to be a little less round. Is that a crime?
Apparently, according to the internet, it might as well be.
My Face, My Filters, My Business
I remember having several debates with my cousin about editing my pictures.
She is completely against it.
And when I say against it, I mean she has brought it up more than once.
She would tell me that some of my filters didn’t look like me. She’d remind me that I’m beautiful inside and out and that I don’t need to change anything about myself.
And you know what? I understand where she’s coming from.
I genuinely do.
She’s coming from a place of love, and I appreciate that. There’s something comforting about having someone remind you that you’re beautiful exactly as you are.
But here’s the thing: I already know I’m beautiful.
I don’t need a filter to convince me of that.
I can look in the mirror, bare-faced, round cheeks and all, and recognize the woman staring back at me.
But I can also recognize certain features I’d rather enhance, soften, or conceal in a picture.
Not for men.
Not for strangers.
Not for some random person scrolling through Instagram while sitting on the toilet.
For me. Because I like the way it looks.
And I don’t believe those two things have to contradict each other.
Let’s Talk About My Editing Habits
Now, I will admit something.
When I first started using beauty filters and photo-editing apps, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
Some of those filters were doing entirely too much.
I was probably one adjustment away from looking like a completely different woman.
But over time, I learned how to edit my pictures in a way that looks more natural. I learned what works for my face, what doesn’t, and when to put the damn slider down.
And I like the results.
For example, I suck at doing makeup.
Seriously.
Some women can blend eyeshadow like they’re painting the Sistine Chapel. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to figure out why one eye looks glamorous and the other looks like I lost a fight.
So you know what I do?
I let my photo editor handle it.
Sometimes, I’m completely bare-faced in a picture, but my editing app gives me a little eyeliner, blush, lipstick, or whatever makeup look I’m feeling that day.
Problem solved.
Sometimes, I think my cheeks look a little too round, so I slim them down slightly.
Sometimes, my skin isn’t giving that dewy, hydrated, glowing goddess aesthetic I want, so I add a little glow.
Because why not?
Now, there are certain things about my body that I absolutely refuse to touch.
My boobs?
Baby, I love my double Ds.
My thick thighs?
They’re staying exactly where they are.
My curves?
Love them.
My ass?
Well…
Let’s just say God was generous in some departments and decided to clock out early in others.
And the disrespectful part?
My mother has a GREAT ass.
A perfectly good genetic opportunity was sitting right there, and somehow I missed the inheritance.
Ma’am, where was my portion?
But that’s the funny thing about genetics and natural bodies. You win some, you lose some, and sometimes your mother walks away with the ass you should’ve inherited.
Life isn’t fair.
And where genetics didn’t deliver, sometimes a photo editor can help a girl out.
I’m not losing sleep over it.
Let’s Stop Pretending Photo Editing Is Something New
Here’s another thing that bothers me about these conversations.
People act like photo editing is some new, dangerous invention created by Instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok.
Please.
The media industry has been retouching photographs for decades.
Long before we were downloading beauty apps, magazines were airbrushing models, smoothing skin, reshaping bodies, whitening teeth, and making celebrities look like they had never experienced a pimple, stretch mark, or bad night’s sleep in their entire lives.
Photoshop existed long before your favorite influencer discovered the face-smoothing feature.
And guess what?
Celebrities and models are still being retouched today.
The difference is that ordinary women now have access to some of the same beauty-enhancing tools that were once primarily available to professional photographers, editors, and major publications.
Suddenly, everybody has an opinion.
And don’t get me wrong. There are legitimate conversations to be had about unrealistic beauty standards, deceptive advertising, and the pressure to look perfect online.
I’m not dismissing those concerns.
But I do question why an ordinary woman choosing to enhance her selfie automatically becomes a public debate about her self-worth.
Editing Yourself Doesn’t Automatically Mean You Hate Yourself
This is the part I really want people to understand.
You can edit your pictures and still love yourself.
Those two things can coexist.
Just like wearing makeup doesn’t automatically mean you hate your natural face.
Just like wearing shapewear doesn’t mean you despise your stomach.
Just like getting your nails done doesn’t mean you hate your natural nails.
Sometimes, you simply enjoy enhancing your appearance.
And sometimes, yes, people edit their pictures because they’re insecure about something.
But here’s my unpopular opinion:
Having insecurities doesn’t mean you lack self-love.
We’re human.
Most of us have something about ourselves we wish were a little different. Maybe it’s our skin, our teeth, our hair, our stomach, our cheeks, or the ass that genetics conveniently forgot to deliver.
Some people choose to embrace those features publicly.
Some choose to conceal them.
Some alternate between the two depending on how they feel that day.
And none of those choices automatically tells you whether someone loves herself.
Self-love isn’t a performance where you have to show the world every perceived imperfection to prove you’ve accepted yourself.
And I refuse to believe women owe complete strangers that kind of visual vulnerability.
Not Everything Women Do Is for Male Validation
Can we also retire the assumption that every decision a woman makes about her appearance revolves around men?
Please and thank you.
Believe it or not, women can enjoy looking pretty simply because we enjoy looking pretty.
Sometimes, I want a soft, dreamy, glowing selfie because that’s the aesthetic I’m going for.
Sometimes, I want a little digital makeup because I don’t feel like putting on actual makeup.
Sometimes, I want to look like the slightly more polished version of myself that exists in my imagination.
And that’s it.
There’s no elaborate plan to attract a husband.
No secret campaign for male approval.
No desperate attempt to convince strangers I’m the most beautiful woman on Earth.
Sometimes, a woman just wants to post a cute damn picture and go about her day.
Revolutionary concept, I know.
But What About the Young Girls Watching?
Now, this is where the conversation gets more complicated.
One of the biggest arguments against beauty filters is that they can negatively influence young girls and teenagers.
And I don’t think that concern should be brushed aside.
Growing up surrounded by heavily edited images can create unrealistic expectations about what real skin, real faces, and real bodies are supposed to look like.
Especially when people don’t realize how much editing happens behind the scenes.
But I don’t believe the solution is to shame every woman who uses a filter.
Instead, I believe we need more education, more media literacy, and more honest conversations about beauty.
Teach young girls that social media is a curated experience.
Teach them that pores exist, skin has texture, bodies fluctuate, and even the most beautiful women have features they sometimes feel insecure about.
Teach them that a photograph isn’t always an accurate representation of reality.
Teach them that beauty comes in different forms, and no single face or body type should become the standard everyone is expected to meet.
And most importantly, teach them that their worth is not determined by how closely they resemble an edited image.
We should also be honest about the difference between casually enhancing a selfie and promoting a digitally altered appearance as an unattainable beauty standard.
Those aren’t necessarily the same thing.
I can support transparency and responsible conversations about editing without believing every woman should be forbidden from using a beauty filter.
Two things can be true at once.
Imagine that.
My Self-Love Doesn’t Need to Look Like Yours
At the end of the day, I think we need to stop treating self-love like it comes with a mandatory rulebook.
You don’t get extra self-love points for posting an unfiltered selfie.
And I don’t automatically lose mine because I softened my cheeks and added a little digital lip gloss.
If you love posting completely natural pictures, I genuinely love that for you.
If you enjoy filters, digital makeup, or a little retouching, do your thing.
If you prefer a mixture of both, welcome to the club.
The real issue, in my opinion, isn’t simply whether someone edits her pictures.
It’s whether she feels pressured to become someone else just to feel worthy of being seen.
That’s a conversation worth having.
As for me?
I know what my real face looks like.
I see her every morning.
And I like her.
I also happen to enjoy giving her a little digital glam every now and then.
I am not required to reveal every flaw to prove that I’ve accepted myself.
And I’m certainly not going to let strangers turn my camera roll into a courtroom where I have to defend every filter, every adjustment, and every edited selfie.
So yes, I edit my pictures.
Yes, I use beauty filters.
Yes, sometimes my skin glows a little more on Instagram than it does in my bathroom mirror.
And yes, I still love myself.
Because self-love doesn’t disappear the moment you touch an editing slider.
You can love yourself and edit yourself at the same damn time.
And that, my loves, is a hill I’m perfectly comfortable standing on.
Stay unapologetic,
Noelle 💗