Half of my life, I've had people staring at me because they think

Hear the words of the artist FKA twigs, who declared: “Half of my life, I’ve had people staring at me because they think I’m funny-looking and ugly. The other half of my life, I’ve had people staring at me because they think I’m fascinating. Everything neutralises. It’s more of a statement on society and how weird it is.” This is no idle complaint nor passing remark, but a reflection upon the fickleness of the human gaze, upon the shifting masks that society places upon the same unchanging soul. What one calls ugly, another calls beautiful; what one mocks, another reveres. And in this, she teaches us that the judgment of men is like the sea’s surface—restless, unstable, ever-changing with the winds of culture and time.

The ancients knew this truth well. Socrates himself, the great philosopher of Athens, was mocked for his appearance. They said he had the face of a satyr, broad-nosed and ungraceful. Yet from that face poured forth wisdom so profound that men gathered in crowds to hear him. What once seemed funny-looking became fascinating, not because the features of his body changed, but because the perception of society shifted to honor the treasures of his mind. Thus, the judgment of the crowd tells us less about the individual and more about the strangeness of society itself.

In the words of FKA twigs, we hear the pain of being gazed upon, measured not by one’s essence but by the surface. How heavy it is, to be treated as an object for others’ fleeting opinions! Yet she transforms this pain into insight, showing that both praise and scorn are but two sides of the same coin, destined to neutralise one another. Today they mock you, tomorrow they exalt you. Today you are too strange, tomorrow you are a genius. The truth of your being lies beyond these waves, in the depths that cannot be disturbed.

Consider also the tale of Vincent van Gogh. In his life, he was called mad, dismissed, and pitied, his art sold for pennies if at all. He died with society’s judgment heavy upon him. And yet, decades later, those same canvases are revered, his name sung with awe across the earth. The same strokes that once made him funny-looking in the eyes of critics became, in time, fascinating to the world. Truly, everything neutralises in the flow of time, for the judgments of society are not eternal truths but passing shadows.

The lesson, then, is this: do not build your life upon the applause or the scorn of others, for these are winds that blow without pattern. If you are praised, remain humble. If you are mocked, endure with dignity. Know that neither praise nor ridicule defines you. What matters is the truth of your work, the purity of your heart, and the strength of your inner flame. The one who relies on the shifting voices of society will be tossed like a leaf in a storm. But the one who anchors himself in truth will stand unmoved, no matter how the crowd may sway.

Practical wisdom calls us to live as follows: when others call you ugly, remember that the same gaze may one day call you fascinating. Do not let either label bind you. Instead, tend to your craft, your virtue, and your soul. When society stares, let it stare. You are not here to be their spectacle; you are here to live fully, to create, to love, to shine. Measure yourself not by their fleeting eyes but by the steadiness of your purpose.

Thus, O listener, take courage. Let the voices of the world wash over you without fear. They will rise, they will fall, but they will neutralise. The true measure of beauty, of worth, of fascination lies not in the eyes of the crowd but in the harmony of a soul aligned with its destiny. Walk forward, then, not seeking to please nor fearing to offend, but to embody the fullness of who you are. For the judgments of society are strange and fleeting, but the truth of your being is eternal.