MAE LOVES MAE SO MUCH

The blaring alarm clock woke Mae up with a start. She groaned as she grabbed her phone to silence the notification. It was 6:30 AM, the time she set aside for her daily self-transformation routine.

Mae saw herself as a work in progress, a masterpiece in the making. Each morning, she carefully applied her makeup, sculpting her face with precision. Her eyelids became a canvas for intricate eyeshadow blends, and her lashes were curled and coated with mascara to perfection. Applying lipstick felt like a special ceremony, the final touch to her daily art project.

Her friends had tried to gently nudge her away from this makeup obsession. ‘You are beautiful without it,’ they would say. They would observe that the latest trend looked terrible on her or emphasise that her own natural features were lovely and didn’t need any help or highlighting. Mae responded that they were just jealous. Her own self-worth was wrapped up in her looks; her only affirmation came from compliments about her appearance—she couldn’t hear the conviction that lay behind her well-meaning friends’ words.

One day, Mae finds herself sipping coffee in a café with a new male friend, Alex. He’s smart, funny, and seems interested in her opinions. She finds herself at ease chatting about anything from favourite books to future hopes and dreams. Despite her best efforts to appear composed, she relaxes sufficiently enough to forget her annoyance at leaving her study for a social encounter early on in the day.

Turning towards her as they made their exit from the café, Alex flashed her a smile. ‘You’re a very interesting woman,’ he said. ‘I really enjoyed this conversation with you.

"Thanks," Mae replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

‘I’m not just saying this because we’re leaving,’ Alex said, suddenly serious. ‘But you are really interesting. You’re funny and clever. There is something about you that is just... magnetic.’ 

Mae had never been thought of this way before. It wasn't about her looks at all. He’d noticed her—nnot just her looks. The minuscule pieces of doubt Mae had been pushing around in her head dropped all at once straight to her gut, as if she’d been hit by a tonne of bricks.

In the following weeks, Mae found herself spending less time in front of the mirror and more time with people she genuinely enjoyed being around. She started having meaningful conversations, delving into her interests and passions. Mae began volunteering at a local animal shelter, finding joy in caring for abandoned animals. She also discovered a new love for writing, with her words flowing onto the page, expressing her thoughts and feelings authentically.

Mae was still pretty, but her beauty now came from the inside. It shone out of her character, her sweetness, her brains, and her energy. She had begun to see that what was important about her beauty wasn’t the appearance it gave her, but what she was like as a person and what connection she could make.

A year later, Mae was at a café, drinking a latte and observing her fellow customers. Outside, a young woman no older than 20 stroked her mirror-image hair and began carefully painting her face. There was a moment of sympathy in Mae’s eyes. That had been her. Yet all of that insecurity! All that makeup! Mae smiled, content that someday, just like her, the girl would find her inner beauty.