posted on Dec, 9 2011 @ 06:22 PM
I am a woman.
I do not look, talk, dress, or act like a girl.
I do not want to look, talk, dress, or act like a girl.
My hair is dark brown. I do not bleach it or process it. It is, at times, unruly and frizzy. But, it flies in the wind. It looks nice when I braid it.
When it turns white, I will not dye it, for that color will represent that I have lived a long life and now have a token of that wisdom atop my
My face is not made up. I don't have the luxury of looking Photoshopped when I walk down the street. My features are just the way they are, and no
amount of makeup will magically make me pretty. Besides, I don't have time to "put on my face" just so other people can look at me for two seconds
longer, wondering what kind of chemicals I used to artificially tint my skin.
My skin is not smooth or perfect. I am not airbrushed. I have spots and dots and bruises and scars. My scars all have pretty good stories. I have
wrinkles. The ones around my eyes are from uproarious laughter. The ones around my mouth are from smiling at people. The ones on my forehead are from
problem-solving and thinking and worrying about loved ones.
My biceps are not thin and shapely. They are muscular from carrying children and 40lb bags of dog food and carrying 80lbs of groceries into the house
all at once so I don't have to make another trip out into the cold.
My hands are not soft or perfectly manicured. They are dry because I do dishes in hot water, wash my hands frequently to avoid spreading germs to
others, and forget to put lotion on them. My fingernails are short and unpainted because, really, I don't like long fingernails and I don't care to
take the time to paint them.
My shoulders are not narrow or bony. They are generous and soft and perfect to comfort people. I hold them straight and stand up tall because I am
glad to be me.
My breasts are what they are. They are perfect for me. If they get saggy and wrinkled when I am old, I will not replace them with implants. They will
have done their job by nourishing my babies, providing a soft pillow for my toddlers, and a place for my children to cry as they tell me their
sorrows. When I die, I would rather people say,"We will miss her deeply and always remember her warm hugs." than have them say, "Well, she's dead.
We will miss her perky bust."
My stomach is not perfectly flat, my abs are not etched in stone. I don't have time to do 1,000 crunches per day just to show other people that I
have a flat stomach. I have stretchmarks from carrying my children and weird lumps in weird places. But, those children were definitely worth it.
My hips are not thin or small. They are curvy and soft and womanly. They are perfect for carrying children upon and perfect for closing doors when my
hands are otherwise occupied. They are also perfect for bumping people out of my way when I want to reach something first.
My legs are not long or elegant or perfectly toned. They are strong and take me where I want to go. I can jump and I can skip and I can dance and I
My feet are not small or adorned. They are plain and unpainted and covered in sensible shoes. They are perfect for pirouettes and sneaking up on
people and standing perfectly still as I watch something amazing happen.
I am a woman.
I am perfect.
I am beautiful.