Pretty Girls Cry Too

They told her she was beautiful

as if beauty was a kind of armor,

as if a pretty face could keep

the world from hurting her.

They noticed the way she smiled,

the way she fixed her hair before leaving,

the way she walked into a room

and somehow made people look twice.

But nobody noticed

how long she stared at her ceiling at night.

Nobody saw the tears

she wiped away before answering the phone.

Nobody heard the little sigh

she gave when someone asked,

“Are you okay?”

Because she had become very good

at saying yes.

Pretty girls cry too.

They cry in bathrooms

with the tap running

so nobody hears them.

They cry underneath blankets

with their phones turned face down,

hoping that maybe,

just maybe,

someone will notice their silence

without being told.

They cry over men

who promised to stay

and then became strangers.

They cry over friendships

that slowly became memories.

They cry because sometimes

they give everything they have

and still feel like

they weren't enough.

She has been called strong

so many times

that people forgot

strong doesn't mean unbreakable.

Sometimes strong is

getting out of bed

when your heart doesn't want to.

Sometimes strong is

washing your face,

putting on lip gloss,

and pretending the world

didn't hurt you yesterday.

Sometimes strong is crying

and still deciding

you will try again tomorrow.

She doesn't always want advice.

Sometimes she just wants someone

to sit beside her

without asking her to explain.

Someone to say,

“You don't have to be okay right now.”

Someone who won't make her feel guilty

for having feelings

just because she looks like

she has everything together.

Because she doesn't.

She has insecurities

she doesn't talk about.

She has old wounds

hidden underneath pretty dresses.

She has nights

when she questions every decision

she has ever made.

She has looked at herself

in the mirror and wondered

when she became so tired.

And there are days

when she doesn't recognize

the girl looking back at her.

Still, she gets up.

Still, she brushes her hair.

Still, she laughs with her friends.

Still, she takes pictures

on days when she feels beautiful.

And sometimes,

she deletes them all

because confidence can disappear

as quickly as it came.

But maybe that's the thing

we forget about beautiful women:

They are still women.

They get jealous.

They get scared.

They overthink.

They miss people

they shouldn't miss.

They fall in love

with the wrong people.

They stay longer than they should.

They forgive too easily.

They have soft hearts

that sometimes get broken

by hands they trusted.

And beauty doesn't make

the breaking hurt less.

So if you see her smiling,

don't assume she has no sadness.

If she looks perfect,

don't assume her life is perfect.

If she says she's tired,

don't tell her she has nothing

to be tired about.

And if she cries,

don't call her weak.

Let her cry.

Let the mascara run.

Let the carefully arranged pieces

fall apart for a moment.

She doesn't need to be beautiful

while she's breaking.

She doesn't need to be strong

every single day.

She only needs to be human.

Because behind the lipstick,

behind the photographs,

behind the laughter

and the compliments,

there is a heart.

And hearts bruise.

Hearts get tired.

Hearts need somewhere safe

to put all the feelings

they've been carrying.

So remember this:

Pretty girls cry too.

And maybe their tears

don't make them less beautiful.

Maybe they simply prove

that beneath all that beauty

there is a woman

still learning how to love herself

through every version of her pain.