Mirrors in my eyes

Mirrors in my eyes

Mirror. I looked myself in it. I tried to define my beauty without the spots, without the scars, without the stretch marks. It seemed stupid and impossible, I grabbed my phone and opened my ever trusty friend- my photo editing app. The deed was done and the result looked surreal. I seemed perfect, flawless even. My hips were voluptuously sexy, my skin as smooth as silk, I looked as beautiful as a mermaid. I finally posted my picture, likes and comment rolled in, the praises I would never have received in person I received it all on social media. Some asked if I was a model. Some guys asked me out. Some girls envied me. I felt confidence rush through my veins. I was filled with Adrenaline. I felt beautiful. Life was good.

Fast forward to the next day, I checked my self confidence meter and nothing had changed. I was still that ugly girl. I felt like a fraud. I felt like 419. This is a scam, I don’t look like that. My curves are uneven. My skin is rough. My complexion is uneven. And I don’t even have pink lips and the Hollywood smile. I felt sick. Life wasn’t good now.

My friend from school saw and complimented my looks. He said yellow looks good on me. I brushed it off, I didn’t feel beautiful. I don’t even look beautiful. He doesn’t know what he is talking about. My negative thoughts about myself lowered my self esteem. My head always bent low. I couldn’t wait for the day to end so I could run under the covers of my bed. I felt defeated. Life was harsh.

Tick tock tick tock. Seconds, minutes and hours passed by slowly, they say a watched pot never boils and now I know why. Finally, I get to go home. Walking along the road I saw a poster which read “looks don’t matter babe”, easy for you to say, you re gorgeous. Life was rose-y now and I could feel the thorns prick me.

I get home and i’m back to my mirror and I say “mirror mirror on my wall, why do I have to be the ugliest of them all.” Well my mirror didn’t talk back obviously. Beauty they say is in the eyes of the beholder, but who is the beholder may I dare to ask. I saw my greatest mistake assuming that those out there were my beholders, not knowing I was the beholder of my beauty. I held my beauty in my eyes which I would only see if I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment without criticizing me. I was beautifully unique and if anyone called me strange I would smile and tell them strange is the new beautiful.

At that moment I thanked the Lord above for this insight and also for mirrors. Mirrors in which I could see His perfect creation. My spots weren’t hideous they were like maps of my journey through puberty, my stretch marks told the story of my weight gain and weight loss and the other scars told the story of a battle well fought.

Now I see life through mirrors in my eyes. That poster was wrong, looks do matter. Just rock your look.

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A letter to that insecure woman

A letter to that insecure woman

Your feminism is your pride.

Dear insecure woman,

I wanted to reach out sooner to you there but you raised your walls and blocked me out, I called to you, I screamed your name but to no avail. I called your cell phone and left you messages but you ignored it all, this letter is the final straw read carefully.

You’ve been called fat, thin, lean, slim, plus size, thick, anoxeric but most of all weak. This has left you troubled, sad and discouraged, you wake up each morning and step up the scale you cry when you notice you’ve gained weight and jump for joy when you notice a decrease. When will all these stop?

You go to the kitchen and make yourself a meal which even a naked, homeless, hungry man will reject all in the name of dieting. Why? To fit into society’s definition of beauty. In doing this, you fail to realize how unique you are. When will all these stop?

You go out everyday to a day job you despise and loathe but you go all the same. Why? Because you want to appear strong and independent, wanting to prove you are equal to man and above your fellow women. In doing this, you fail to realize that you were not made equal to him but to complement him and be his other half knowing one cannot function without the other. When will all these stop?

You cover up yourself in potato sacks and very unattractive clothes. Why? Because you are insecure about how you look, you look into the mirror and feel ugly, you worry about your blemishes and hide behind thousands of layers of paint just to feel beautiful. In doing this, you fail to realize that you were fearfully and wonderfully made, that He who made you designed you to utmost perfection, that there is someone else out there who envies your beauty and wishes she was you. When will all these stop?

Listen to me, I do not wish to sweet talk you but I had no choice. Your miserable actions vexes me. You are strong, bold, beautiful, unique, porfect, an epitome of beauty and knowledge.

Who else can be strong and soft at the same time? Only you.

Who else can be shy and also upfront? Only you.

Who else defends what she stands for? Only you.

So get your lazy ass off that couch and shine cos you were made to shine. If any one tells you otherwise give them the middle finger.

Yours in-truth,

your inner self.

But still,