I Wanted to Be Beautiful [아름다워지고 싶었습니다.]

A Personal Story

When I was young, I was often called “the second” more than I was called by my own name.

I was the second of three sisters. My older sister was two years older, and my younger sister was one year younger.

We were similar in height and even wore the same shoe size. My younger sister and I looked so much alike that people sometimes thought we were twins. We even grew up wearing the same clothes.

“Who studies better?”

“Who is more popular?”

“Who is prettier?”

The three of us were constantly compared.

And little by little, I began comparing myself to them, too.

“Yes, my older sister is smarter and more responsible.”

“Yes, my younger sister is more outgoing and popular with everyone.”

I didn't know it then, but those comparisons were slowly making my young heart feel smaller.

When I was in the third grade, there was a boy I liked.

We were class president and vice president, and we were close enough to spend time together as friends.

One day, with my heart trembling, I went to his house and softly knocked on his door.

I had carefully made a little clay piece and brought him some Pepero, along with a card where I had written down my feelings.

But he told me that he wanted us to remain friends.

It was the first time I had ever confessed my feelings, and the heartbreak of that innocent little girl still remains a tender memory.

The walk home felt unusually long.

I couldn't bring myself to look up at the sky. I simply walked with my eyes fixed on the ground.

And as I walked, I prayed for the first time.

“God, I want to be pretty, too.”

Years later, when I was in high school, something happened that I still remember.

A close friend's mother was driving me home when, suddenly, she said to me,

“You're ugly.”

I didn't know what to say.

As soon as I got home, I went into the shower, stood under the water, and cried for a long time.

And again, through my tears, I prayed,

“God, I want to be pretty, too.”

At the time, I thought I simply wanted to be pretty.

But only much later did I understand what I had really been longing for.

I didn't really want to be a pretty person.

I wanted to be someone who was loved.

One day, I felt these words settle quietly into my heart.

“If God loves you, why don't you love yourself?”

“If God sees you as beautiful, why can't you believe it?”

Those words didn't change the way I looked.

But they changed the way I looked at myself.

From that day on, I slowly began to understand.

Beauty doesn't begin with someone telling us that we are beautiful.

It begins when we believe that we are already loved.

I didn't know it then.

That the prayer I once whispered to God—

“I want to be pretty, too.”

would one day become

“Thank You, God.”

That was the beauty I had been searching for all along.