Let me start by saying as an early 20s feminist woman, I support anyone presenting their face with or without makeup, no matter the circumstances. This article is in no way meant to shame makeup-loving beauty gurus. I myself have fallen down the glittery and luminious rabbit hole that is the beauty community.

When I first became interested in makeup, I was in 11th grade. I noticed all my classmates now had fierce brows and defined eyeliner while I considered it a miracle if I even brushed my hair that morning. I started to feel jealous of these girls and their beauty, and all the likes they received in Facebook, and the compliments they got from other girls.

I think I really became stuck on the idea of makeup when I was told by a couple girls in school that my eyebrows were too bushy (now that's the trend, go figure) and that I would "look so pretty with makeup." Was I ugly without?

Young girls are made to believe they are inferior without makeup. We are taught so early in life that we must try to cover our flaws in order to be perceived as beautiful in the eyes of society's impossible standards. Thirteen year olds are contouring like a professional, because they feel like they have to or they will not be pretty, when they should be just worrying about being a kid. Again, this is not an anti-makeup post. But let's not pretend that young girls aren't feeling pressured to live up to modern beauty standards of America.

Ever since that year in my awkward high school journey, I became obsessed with makeup and all things beauty. YouTube tutorials were my best friends - Hi, how are ya, Jeffree Star? - and I refused to put that drug store eye shadow down until I mastered the smokey eye. Just as I was becoming confident in my makeup skills and my physical appearance while wearing makeup, I got hired at Sephora; my actual dream job. There, I learned more than I could ever imagine, about not only makeup, but skincare too! Apparently it's important to moisturize- who knew?

However, as much as I quickly loved working there, I realized something: I did not like doing my makeup. That's not something you hear a lot- a trained makeup artist, working at a prestige beauty store, NOT liking makeup. Now, to clarify: I still loved makeup. I loved playing with it, applying it to others, and the general atmosphere of just being surrounded by beautiful beauty products.

I just hated how I looked with it on my own face.

For a while I just brushed it under the rug, blaming my insecurities on my eating disorder, or maybe I wasn't so good at makeup after all. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. Why did I physically dread putting my face on for work every day?

Almost like I was getting punched in the face, I had an epiphany at work one night. I looked in the mirror, at all the powders and shiny stuff on my face, and I started crying. For what, I honestly don't know why. But as soon as my coworkers left, I grabbed the makeup remover, and just wiped everything off. I looked in the mirror, at my bare face, and smiled.

I smiled really fucking big.

I all of a sudden didn't mind the little redness in my chin, or the pores on my nose. In fact, all of that looked stunning in that moment. I have no idea why.

I've struggled with my image for so long, ever since I can remember. And all it took was a minor emotional breakdown at 11 pm at a Sephora for me to come to the revelation that I did. I hated myself because I was hiding myself.

I still love makeup, but I love myself more without it. And I'm beginning to feel okay with that.