My mother once told me,
“You are the most beautiful girl in the world.”
My father would say,
“Those boys better watch out!”
And “Don’t worry, I’ll have a shotgun waiting when he gets here.”
My friends would gush,
“You’re so pretty!”
And “Why are you so perfect?”
When you looked at me you said,
“Wow, you are so beautiful.”
And then you asked me what I thought.
You asked, “Do you think you are pretty?”
And I replied with, “Why do you need to know?”
I didn’t want you to know that I didn’t.
I didn’t want the words
Of my mother,
To prove me wrong.
I thought that you would leave me
Because that’s what usually happens.
When I answered, “No, I do not think I’m pretty.”
You said, “Well, I think you’re gorgeous.”
For some reason, it was okay.
For a moment I felt like it was true.
Maybe, for once, I believed you.
Maybe, when I looked in the mirror
I didn’t see what I would normally see.
Instead of seeing the crook in my nose,
I saw the curves of my body.
I saw the elegance of my hands
And the unique shape of my face.
I saw what you had always seen,
But I had not.
And for a moment, maybe I believed you.
But then you left me.
You saw the weight of my body,
The roundness of my face.
You saw the absence of a tight core
And a slim waist.
You saw what I had always seen
And you left me.
Just like everyone else.
And maybe for a minute there,
I believed you.
I thought, “He’s right. I am not worthy of him.
I can’t be with him, because of what I look like.”
And even though I know that’s wrong,
I believed you
And you let me down.
You led me to believe that maybe I was beautiful,
Then you changed your mind
And left me standing in the rain.
Now what does that make you?