I get it. I do.

I always wanted to be beautiful too.

Wanted the face, the poise, the graces.

Want to be that one. The one

Who snatches your breath right out of your lungs

Who makes you sigh and gush and melt

Stop it. Seriously this time. Because standing in high heels really sucks.

And because wearing that much make up makes me feel like a sad carnival clown.

And because judging people on their beauty is the worst worst thing for all ‘the children watching at home.’

And most importantly, because you know what’s more fun than trying to be beautiful?

Running down a hill in bare feet

Getting mud all over your clothes

Laughing so hard with your friends that you accidentally spew half chewed carrots across the table, which only makes you laugh harder and everyone looks at you like you’re a crazy person but it doesn’t matter because there is nothing more beautiful than a peal of laughter that rings out above all the clothes and makeup and magazines. Nothing.

It’s not about the country. It’s not about the color of her face. I really couldn’t care less where she’s from. Because it doesn’t matter. Choosing an American woman with a slightly different skin tone doesn’t mean progress. When you have that much make up on, all those pretty skinny women look the same.

You know what beauty is about? Really? Its about what makes you smile and singing at the top of your lungs and making up constellations on a cold night while you hold hands with you friends and feel absolutely flawlessly happy.

That’s what makes you beautiful. You don’t need a sash or a crown or a panel of judges to tell you so. Beauty is a state of mind. Go out and be beautiful and I promise that Miss America will never ever equal you. Enough already. Enough.