Looking into a portrait or any piece of artwork and connecting with the artist on a deep, intimate level is something that few can experience in their lifetime. Going into an art museum for less than 2 hours and coming out with an entirely different view on yourself is even rarer. Luckily, I had the privilege of visiting the Denver Art Museum, and experienced a life-altering view on beauty, my self image, and powerful female role models.

The exhibit that I felt the deepest connection to was titled "Women of Abstract Expressionism". It was a moving journey through the artwork of 12 female artists whose work was less focused on objects and literal interpretation, but rather an expression of movement, emotion, and empowerment in the prejudiced times of the 1940’s and ‘50’s.

While wandering through the exhibition, I was able to find some time alone to my thoughts, something that I found quite sparse on my crowded family vacation. I looked at the paintings and at times felt like I wasn't really “getting” the message sent by the artist. I thought, “Am I too narrow-minded to comprehend these pieces? They all just look like a bunch a big, messy paint smears.”

As I pondered this question, I walked next to a portrait that I initially thought was nothing more than a canvas full of black and brown paint blobs stroked across a tall canvas. I guess my feelings of confusion showed through my face, because an older woman standing next to me said, “Stand back, this is a portrait you have to see entirely at once. You can't see it when you stand too close.”

I stood back several feet, looked at the painting again and realized that the painting was actually a portrait of a man. Adjacent to the image was a plaque that wrote about how the artist created a painting of her husband not as he actually looked, but as a representation of his soul and personality expressed through art. It was a series of thoughts and emotions compressed into a single, prepossessing image.

The artwork reminded me of how I felt about myself. For many years I felt like I never did as much as my peers in academics, extracurriculars, or overall school citizenship. No matter how many AP or honors classes I took, clubs I joined, or work I did, I could never be enough. These thoughts of inadequacy had left me feeling misunderstood, and I could never see the “big picture” of who I really was.

While standing in front of that single portrait, I realized that maybe I too looked at myself too closely. I scrutinized every detail, crevice, and imperfection in myself; going over and over in my mind that I wasn't good like all the other perfectly painted, seemingly flawless people that surrounded me.

I realized that the portrait was beautiful even if it wasn't even close to what most consider perfect. It didn't have perfect proportions or clean brush strokes, and during the time of its creation is wasn't respected like the works of many other artists. It was beautiful in its uniqueness. It didn't conform to the standard of beauty and most people’s idea of “great art”. It was perfect because it existed and was created by someone who loved it.

In life, we are the artist and the painting; crafting ourselves into a true work of art. Even if your lines are crooked, your paint is smudged, or someone may not understand you, you are perfect because you are.

Those incredible female artists taught me the most important lesson anyone can ever learn: no one should dictate your self expression except yourself.

On the entrance into the exhibit, a sign stated, “Until recently, [the artists’] involvement has been underreported and their canvases undervalued. Yet their authentic expressions belong front and center in the accounts of Abstract Expressionism.”

Just like these amazing women, we at times may feel undervalued, ignored, or not appreciated. We are all works of art, and when we accept ourselves, we will be freed from the minefield of hatred that we all have within.