Sunday, April 14, 2013

Survived with Beauty

Often uncomfortable in my own skin,
looking into the mirror of society
with a reflection of disgust;
I am imperfect

My body has curves where there shouldn’t be
and my face is spotted with stubborn blemishes;
I’ll paint over them with a brush,
hide behind a mask of concealer and cover-up,
and repeat to myself every day
that I am beautiful;

I am beautiful.

But tomorrow,
if I have a daughter,
I swear to God
I’m gonna make sure she knows
she’s beautiful

because she was made in His essence.

I’m gonna make sure she knows
that she doesn’t have to be
some airbrushed stick-skinny big-breasted blonde-haired blue-eyed Barbie,
because Barbie is a girl who has an eating disorder
and can’t walk upright;

Because unlike Barbie whose life’s in plastic, she was made from this earth,

and she is beautiful.

So for her, today,
I will embrace my curves
and I will wear my stubborn blemishes
like trophy scars
of the war
I survived with beauty.

No comments:

Post a Comment