Lonely Thoughts and Tears Caused By Mirrors

 Please do not tell her,
"Oh, you are so skinny!"
As if to say,
"You are so beautiful!"
For what happens if one day
She no longer is
Thin?

Please don't tell her
She has nothing to worry about,
Because she eats right and works out.
For what if one day 
Her figure pluses in size?

I know you mean well.
But don't you realize that these compliments
Fall
On 
This girl
Like some kind of definition?
A standard 
She struggles to uphold.

This girl knows she won't get the gold.
She turns on the TV and angels with wings
Lay the foundation of what is called "stunning".
Every other ad shows women with small, tight abs
And gives tips on how to lose every inch of fat.
This girl knows she ain't that.

But that doesn't erase the lonely thoughts...

She is slim, trim...now...sure.
But what about tomorrow?
Today, the girl decided to eat a Big Mac with fries and everything that comes with it,
Because she like the taste of the food.
But by nightfall, she is crying in the shower.
Lonely tears stream down her cheeks.
"If I was beautiful then," she thinks,
"I won't be tomorrow."

The amount of food she consumed repulses her.
She vows to stop eating;
Regurgitate this 'glutinous sin'...
The thought is temptin'...even for only a second:
Maybe if she puts her body through hell,
Maybe she can be seen worthy of heaven.

She is mindful of the flab -
No matter how small it is, how biologically necessary it is -
The fact is, she still sees it.  
Despises it.
Disgust rises in her.
She grabs the skin with fingers
Meant to dig away the 'abhorring matter'.
She makes a fist and pounds at her waistline,
Wishing it was...if only it could be...
Minimized in the next moment.

She quietly utters her plea:
"Mommy!  Help me please!"
She knows woman to woman
The struggled with the same battles.
They fought the same hurts.
But her momma is still
Haunted by the demons found in mirrors.

Everything becomes comparable.
Because the girl is closer to the model of perfection,
Her concern is bearable.
So, the girl hesitates. 
She silences her tears;
Retreats into her lonely thoughts.

How is that generations upon generations
Of women are so forlorn with their tears
Yet are in a company of desperate hurt?
How is that daughters, sisters, mothers
Are so distant in their talk
But are so empathetic in their thoughts?

Mirrors shroud and surround.
Standards are pressed; words expressed
Forcing the genuine beauty
To be forgotten.
Making it to be a foreign memory, a dream;
Unreachable.  Unattainable.

What happened to the time
Where a woman's splendor was found
In the admiration of her character
Rather than in the structure of her anatomy?

What happened to the era of Marilyn Monroe
Where women were seen as the hottest thing on the block -
Because of their smile, voice, integrity and kindness
And not because they lacked a waistline?

Doors must be opened;
Tears cannot be hidden.
Girls, we cannot convince ourselves
That silence will protect a peaceful pacifism.
We need to confess our sorrows.
However, the pain cannot be possessed.

There will be a morning full of healing.
We shall stand confident,
Direct - Our smiles reflecting
That the scars no longer wound us.
Knowing 
We have finally remembered
The fabulous women we are.

Little girls:
Stare into the mirror
That has caused so many lonely tears and thoughts.
Dare the piece of glass to recall
The innocent days when you looked into your face
And knew without being taught
That you had been graciously and wonderfully shaped.

Little girls:
You are stunning, truly beautiful -
Beyond all compare and comment,
Above all reproach.
Magnificent.  You are
Adorned with a joyous, entrancing life
Carrying an elegant delight wherever you step.
You are captivating; ravishing.
You are an immeasurable treasure
That was brilliantly formed.
You are whole just as you are.

(Written in 2013)