in the backseat of my aunt's jaune car i was told by my uncle that no man would love me if i didn't do anything about the scattered red spots on the hallows of my face.
i remembered the way my aunt agreed with him,
and at the ripe age of 10 i was exposed to the toxic idea of
beauty
meant
everything.
nonchalant comments of 'you're getting fat'
or
'look more like a girl'
was common being spoken by those who i looked up to the most.
i grew up amongst people
who treasured this broken standard of beauty over
the little youth
i had left.
and the aftermath of all this?
when you're subjected to these words and they're considered as the norm,
you're left renderred useless,
another set of wasted skull and bones.
you get used to the words,
but they don't hurt any less.
they unknowingly cut you down,
slice at a time,
they mask their intentions like a good bottle of red wine but they leave you to fend for yourself as you're left to let your brain die,
because these thoughts,
they are more damaging,
than the wounds themselves.
do not be fooled by sparkly sticky lips on a girl with bows in her hair and jewelery adorning her tight wrists.
i was taught,
to suck in my stomach,
and to hate the fading scars on my thighs,
i was taught to hate myself,
by these stupid fucking lies.
girls,
boys,
and everything inbetween.
you do not need,
a flat stomach, or big doe eyes.
you do not,
need a waist as small as a paper that's A4 sized.
you do not need,
a chisled chest or rock hard abs.
you do not need,
broad wide shoulders nor a 12 incher.
you do not need,
to fit into gender roles,
you do not need,
to wear, and look, and feel the way you
don't
want to.
you do not need a nod of approval or a woman on your shoulders to evaluate your worth in society.
remember who you were, before
the world told you who to be.
20:44pm
