New Update
/shethepeople/media/media_files/2025/08/05/cassie-2025-08-05-19-21-44.jpg)
Still from HBO’s Euphoria. Character: Cassie Howard (Sydney Sweeney).
0
By clicking the button, I accept the Terms of Use of the service and its Privacy Policy, as well as consent to the processing of personal data.
Still from HBO’s Euphoria. Character: Cassie Howard (Sydney Sweeney).
From a young age, women are taught that beauty is a form of power. Fairytales reward the fairest maiden. Ads promise love and success to the slim and glowing. Compliments are laced with phrases like “You’re so pretty, you must get everything easily.” But what appears to be admiration often hides a deep, invisible burden. Beauty, particularly in women, is not just a visual currency—it is a social contract, and often, a trap.
On the surface, being conventionally attractive seems like a privilege. Research confirms that beautiful people are more likely to be hired, promoted, and even found credible in courtrooms. Psychologist Nancy Etcoff calls this the "survival of the prettiest." We are evolutionarily wired to respond positively to symmetry, clear skin, and other markers of health. But what happens when a woman becomes more than just seen, but judged, reduced, or resented because of her looks?
There is a psychological toll to being perceived as "pretty." Attractive women often report being dismissed in professional spaces, where their intelligence is underestimated. Others experience sexualisation from an early age. A girl praised for her beauty may internalize that this is her main value, slowly shrinking her personality to fit the frame others admire. The sociologist Erving Goffman would describe this as "impression management"—the act of modifying behavior to align with society’s expectations.
But here's the paradox: society expects women to be beautiful, yet penalizes them for it. A woman who embraces her beauty is labeled vain. A woman who doesn’t conform is seen as lazy or rebellious. It’s a tightrope. Too pretty, and you’re seen as threatening. Not pretty enough, and you’re invisible. There’s barely space for authenticity.
We also live in an age of hypervisibility. With social media filters and beauty influencers, appearance has become performance. In such a world, women are expected to not only be beautiful but to curate their beauty, maintain it, monetize it, and stay humble about it. “You have to look good, but not know it,” as one viral tweet said. This contradiction can fracture self-worth. Women internalize the idea that their value is always on display, always negotiable.
From a sociological lens, this obsession with beauty is rooted in patriarchy and capitalism. Both thrive on women doubting themselves. The global beauty industry, worth over $500 billion, feeds on insecurities. As feminist theorist Naomi Wolf argued in The Beauty Myth, “A woman’s appearance is seen as a proxy for her worth. The more value society places on beauty, the more it controls women.”
Even in female friendships, beauty can be a wedge. Prettier women are sometimes excluded out of jealousy or judged more harshly. Meanwhile, less conventionally attractive women are marginalized or pitied. The system creates a hierarchy among women themselves, fueling competition instead of solidarity.
First, we need to shift the narrative. Compliment girls and women for their courage, kindness, intelligence, and humor, not just their looks. Second, we must stop pretending that beauty is only about choice and empowerment. It's also about survival. Some women rely on their beauty because society rewards it. Criticizing them without critiquing the system is unfair.
And maybe that’s the quiet tragedy of being “pretty”—when society mistakes appearance for identity, and praise for validation.
What does it mean to be seen, but not known? To be admired, but not understood?
In a world that rewards beauty but punishes its power, women are often forced to walk a tightrope—grateful for the attention, exhausted by its cost.
As writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie once said, “I want to be respected in all my complexity… not reduced to how I look or what I wear.”
So the question isn’t whether beauty helps or hurts. The real question is:
What would a woman become if she was never taught to measure her worth by the way she’s seen?
That’s the thought we owe her. And ourselves.
Views expressed by the author are their own.