I wonder . . .
Has there ever been a day or a time that stands out in your mind when you have seen your reflection in the mirror and felt good about it?
I laugh at times and think about the young man’s struggle and the games and the dating rituals and how insignificant this really is. However, at the time, I used to invest everything on the outer layers and the looks, the image, or the identity of me or the person I dated.
And unfortunately, I have to admit to my shallowness. However, and at the same time, I recognize one of my traits to which I am proud to say that yes; I can find beauty in people.
I do think that beauty is everywhere and I agree that the outside can be pretty and even gorgeous but a person’s ugliness from the inside out can make the most beautiful person become lucky to be average at best.
I used to take so long to get out of the house when I was going out with my friends at night. I would try on a hundred different outfits and then go back to the original outfit that I had on in the first place.
I know one thing above others is that insecurity is a whisper that is always going to be louder than any compliment, no matter who screams this or tells us anything good.
Insecurity loves to provide its theft of services and therefore, insecurity and insecure thinking are the weeds that suffocate the flowers of our emotional garden.
I do not think any part of you could ever be ugly. I do not believe that you have an ugly bone in your body. However, I understand that the outside does not always match the inside and oftentimes, a smile is just a smile to cover the pain or the fears or the anxious abandons we experience in life.
No one sees the truths or the invisible scars and no one knows, no one understands, and no one feels the fear or the worries of an old rejection that hurts in the past and left us foolish.
I remember times when I swore I was comfortable. There were nights when I swore I looked good enough to fit or be around and compete with the others in my so-called crowd of friends. And there were times when my confidence was high and I was good. I was comfortable enough to smile and comfortable enough to play the role and act like I belonged. I was good, only to be shot down like a dream in the clouds and burst like a balloon that floated by, overhead, happy and eager to soar the sky beneath the sun or the moon.
I was good until someone turned this around on me and as good as I believed I was, the insults were no different from emotional missiles that shot me down and turned my personality awkward and uncomfortable.
As high as I was, I went lower than before.
There are very few times when I sat fine and comfortable.
I was fine to be me.
I was fine to be as I am.
I was fine to smile and fine to feel comfortable.
But more, there are only a few photographs to which I can tell that I am happy or comfortable and good to be seen.
There are not too many nights when I was happy to be where I was and enjoying myself, as in unafraid to be me, unbothered by the crowd around me, and fine to dance or sing and be happy with myself,or to be me, exactly how I am.
Do you want to know about the girl I see in my head and in my heart?
Would you like to know how amazing she is to me or how flawless or perfectly imperfect and to me, above all else and more so than anyone else, no one in this world is prettier. No one tops her. No one makes me smile or think or feel and be as comfortable as she does.
She knows everything about me.
She knows about my flaws.
She knows my fears.
She knows my kinks and fetishes.
She knows how to touch me.
She knows how to play me too, like a fiddle, of course.
She knows how to look at me and how to entice me, how to turn me on, how to heal me, help me, and more than anyone else who dared to try in this world; she knows how to love me too, despite her caution, despite her walls and her guard.
She has me though. No matter how close or far away she is. No matter how distant I am or if she chooses me or not, no one else in the world can do to me what she does.
Everything about her is beautiful.
Her legs make me crazy, all the way down to her toes. Everything about her turns me on or makes me crazy.
I am incapable of going elsewhere.
I cannot quit or give up.
I am insatiable when it comes to her, like a thirst that never dies.
She changes the world for me.
In fact, I have pictures of me from as young as my birth and only one person in the world can sit next to me in a picture and make me comfortable.
I can always tell if I am uncomfortable in pictures and what I’m thinking by the look on my face . . .
It took me more than 50 years to see myself in a photograph and know that I was happy.
Only she does this for me. .
And yes
She is you
And you . . .
You are the only one
For me
