People Just as Crazy as Me

Friday, May 4, 2012

Monologues of the Dating Divorcee Working Mother - "Beautiful"

Monologues of the Dating Divorcee Working Mother

(aka: The Life of a
Quasi-Single Mother)

Image Detail

(DISCLAIMER: I do not mean to offend anyone. There are different strokes for different folks, and we all have different lives, goals, aspirations. What I write about in these posts is not meant to be the "only way", "the right way", "better than you". It's just my opinion, use it where you can. Comment or Criticize too, how else do we grow as people, if we don't listen to a little criticism?)

With all the roles we play.
It's very hard to see ourselves as a
Beautiful Woman

Believe you me.
I look at myself...
And all I see
9 times out of 10...
A tired
I see the stress of the day on my face.
The weight of everything in the bags under my eyes.

(Did I type that? Yup. It's supposed to say VERY RARELY.)
*rolls eyes*
VERY RARELY do I look in the mirror and see the beautiful young woman I am.

So, if I don't see myself this way...
How does Klay see me this way?
Or the random looks I get while out and about.
Where do those come from?
How do others see me as something I can't see?

This is something I'm sure baffles all of us with the title roles of:

We are deemed beautiful.
even sexy.

I sure as hell don't think I look sexy at the end of the day!
I think that requires layers of makeup.
A long bath.
and.... something slinky and black.

Just to be honest.

For an example.
Not getting too...

Last night.
I was looked at like a sunrise.
Viewed like a goddess...
Touched like I was made of silk.

And told how beautiful I was.

And when I look at him.
I know it's the truth.
And.. almost instantly... I feel it too.

This morning.
I looked in the mirror.
and... still..
I see the bags under the eyes.
The stress of the impending day on my face.

But what else is there?
I see a glitter in my eye.
I remember how much I love my eyes.
I notice my skin is looking great.
My complexion is starting to really even out....
I notice how healthy my hair is.
Now that it's a normal color... and mostly undyed.

And I realize.
I am beautiful.
In this skin.
In this body.
In my head.

I just need to be able to see it more.
I need to own my physical being.

I am a beautiful working mother.

I bet...
You all are too.

Happy Friday.