Aphrodite

Misunderstood

Being the Goddess of Beauty was amazing. And Love. And Pleasure.
Maybe.

Aphrodite, Goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation. What more was needed in life?
The question evaporated when she was introduced to the other celestial beings. The Olympians. Her brethren who married her off without even a greeting. She was flattered by the attention, but it hurt nevertheless to be given off as an object to a man. But she was new to the world, so she kept silent.

She had comfortably adjusted in her role in the world, her powers guiding her to do what she thought best. At the beginning, she had loved her work, her powers, thinking herself superior to the rest. It had cost her highly.

Her domains had a unique addition that no other god or goddess had. It controlled her appearance. It was delightful knowing that no matter what, she was the prettiest, her vanity fueled by her ignorance. She preyed on others with this weapon in hand until she realized it wasn't a necklace, but a noose, continuously tightening. 

It killed her on the inside to know that no one had seen her as she truly was. She was primed to take the form of their desires, their idea of beauty. Slowly, she realized that she hated it. Millennium, she had spent, knowing that not one was greater to her, but as she matured, her ignorance swept away. It always felt like a punch to the gut to know that no matter how she looked, it was not enough.

It pained her every time she was forced to change; to arrange her features in a way that pleased the person standing in front of her. She had wished a  hundred times just to stand before a person as she truly looked, but every time she met eyes with anyone, even the most insignificant, she felt her features give away. It was a harsh failure, a repeated one; but expectant.

She loved the attention, she loved the lust in their eyes. She loved being doted upon, to be worshipped as the greatest. But as good as it felt, it didn't change the fact that no man would ever love her for her mind. For her compassion, for her selflessness, her traits, her personality. It was almost as if she didn't have one.

When they looked at her, all they saw was a goddess in vain. Just being seen as their own idea of beauty had convinced them of her vanity when all she desired was a true love of her own. She had been depicted as nude for centuries to satiate the desire of those who wished to gaze upon her but she was the one who was called vain. Later, she accepted her position, her life, and flaunted her beauty, knowing that there was no use fighting a loosing battle. 

They saw an unfaithful goddess who snatched other's lovers when all she did was glance their way. Her powers took control and showed them the image they wished to see, their lust luring them away from their love. She was just naïve, jumping from suitor from suitor, hoping that her next lover was true, who didn't want her only for her beauty.

She wanted to be more. She wanted to spread love, she wanted to be loved. Ares, she hoped, was there for her, as a whole, but he like the rest, had disappointed. He was true to what she provided and nothing more. But she had stuck around, clinging to the foolish hope of having something more. He was the only constant in her life, twisted as it may be. 

She became what they wanted her to become. Like all gods and goddesses, she too relied on the worship of mortals for her power, her strength. And they wanted nothing to do with what they called a weakness, a useless emotion. Love had been scorned for too long, considered a frivolous emotion. Nothing enraged her more than people using her as means to do evil, something which seemed to be the only explanation for her power.

She wanted to show them what love truly was, what it could do. It could protect, draw loyalty like nothing else. It could change. And people are always afraid of change. So they corrupted her sacred life, twisting her image until she was nothing more than a loathed necessity.

It hurt like nothing else. Knowing that she was converting into something she so very despites, being aware of the very changed that stood for everything she was against almost broke her. It drove her insane, making her do unforgivable things. And the worse part was that she thought it justified. She was what they believed she was and to know that this, this monster, was what they expected, made her act like one.

They taught her to be vain and so she did their bidding, starting wars on her name. But the worse part is that they don't know that they were the ones who made he who she is. Their ideals, their worship made her do those things. But ultimately they forgot, pouring buckets of salt in her various wounds.

She was scorned by the world while they forgot who made her.