Sensual Woman
A site for women run by women

I awoke this morning, eager to meet the day, a smile upon my face, confident that my list of daily chores would be seen through to fruition. I took my first cup off coffee, snugly wrapped in my terry robe, standing out on the back porch, where I closed my eyes and let the sun kiss a new day's glow upon my skin. Inhaling deeply, a bird's sweet song lifted my heart and the scent of the morning air filled my senses and I just had to sigh, "What a beautiful day. What a beautiful day to be alive"

The aroma of goat's milk soap and steam filled the bathroom where I showered and stepped out to stand before the vanity, the mirror fogged and I not visible. I prefer it this way, you see. Looking at myself through a clouded looking glass is acceptable, comfortable and I know that if I hurry through this part of my morning routine, I can slip quickly out of the bathroom, before the fog lifts.

Brushing my teeth, always brings a sense of dread, for I know that once finished, I will have to wipe away a tiny circular window on the mirror, if only to make certain that no toothpaste has dripped upon my chin. What am I so afraid of? What do I expect to see, once the fog is towelled away and I raise my eyes to glance within this looking glass before me?

Eyes cast down, I towel the mirror and summon courage from within to raise my eyes. The tears streak my cheeks as I find myself face to face with an image of such grotesqueness, so swine-like, yet so very sad. The beast looks back at me and a stream of tears stains its cheeks too. I bring my face close to the mirror, to stare intently into the blue tear filled eyes before mine. "Please don't cry", I whisper to this pathetic creature. "Please don't cry", it whispers back to me.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who's the fairest one of all?
Not You!
You "filthy ugly pig!"

Yes, that is what he used to call me. A stepfather with so much hatred for my existence that he couldn't even bear to call me by name.

Filthy ugly pig.. Dirty ugly pig.. Hey! Filthy ugly pig! Get over here and get your ass paddled you disgusting ugly pig!

Yes, that is what he used to call me, this stepfather whom I called Daddy. But, I was just a child, a little girl defenceless against such anger, yet, I wouldn't have defended if given the opportunity, for I believed it to be true. The school bullies just reaffirmed what my stepfather beat into me with his vile tongue and the hard wooden paddle he made special just for me.

"Get away from us you stinky puke!.. you dirty puke!.. you ugly puke!", they screeched before knocking me over the head with a baseball bat, leaving my 8 year old body unconscious in the middle of the road to awaken to the realization that indeed, I was ugly, filthy, just a dirty ugly pig, and I sobbed, holding my head, all the way home. "Why did I have to be born so ugly? It hurts to be ugly"

Mom consoled me the best that she could, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words may never hurt me", she assured and asked for me to remember those words of wisdom, before sending me off to apologize to the boys and their families. To this day, I have no idea as to why I had to apologize, perhaps for being so ugly? I was certain that was the reason. Because I was so ugly, they knocked me unconscious and called me names. Because I am a dirty ugly pig, I deserve to be hurt.

Oh how I memorized those words. Sticks and stones.. Sticks and stones.. but oh how those words hurt me.. oh how those words still hurt me..

Today, people tell me that I am pretty. "I'd give anything to have a smile like yours", they say. "Your inner beauty shines right to the outside!", I am told. Yet, every mirror that I pass, is done so with downcast eyes, a sense of dread and a small journey back to those grey times of my past. How I wish I could believe you all. How I wish that I could look into the mirror and not see that grotesque creature staring back at me.

Yes, sticks and stones may break my bones,
and your words can scar for a lifetime

But, as odd as it may sound, I am somewhat grateful for the hurtful words that were said to me all those years ago. Because of them, I made a solemn promise to myself that I would never hurt another person the way that I had been hurt. Instead, I seek to see the beauty in all living things and I am not afraid to relay what I see. A heart shaped freckle, grey flecks in eyes of blue, a voice that touches my heart. I have made it a goal that not one person who crosses my path, will have to stand before a mirror, to see a dirty ugly pig, staring back at them.

Have I told you lately..
How beautiful you truly are..

~shanti~