Perfectly Imperfect Me

Don’t let them tell you, that you are not beautiful.

That the reflection you see in shop windows, dressing room mirrors, reflected in still water, and seen in bathrooms, is ugly.

Or maybe they don’t call it ugly.

Maybe it’s skinny. Stick girl. Or “Poor little skinny stick.”

Maybe it’s fat. Jello. Or “Fatty.”

Perhaps it is “unattractive,” or some other horrible adjective.

But you know what?

I rather be called those names a thousand times, then be nasty enough on the inside to be able to say them.

I  don’t need opinions, of those who do not know me.

I don’t need nasty words because you don’t approve of how I look.

I don’t deserve to be treated that bad, and I won’t.

Because if I ever listened to the numbers on the scale, and the words people said, I would see myself as those things.

But since I know the truth, I don’t believe lies.

I know the truth that everyone is beautiful.

I am beautiful.

That there is a world full of people.

Bad.

Good.

Wonderful.

And among them all, there are people who love me.

They love my quirky words, like “Catdoodle,” and “Pringle-Popsicles.”

They love my Thursday night dance sessions and my Sunday night school dread.

And because of that, I can say proudly that I am beautiful.

A mirror reflects what you feel, remember that.

So please feel beautiful, because that is what you are.