I’m pretty. Yes I said it!
I am pretty.
In fact I am gorgeous. Maybe even beautiful!
For so long I didn’t know.
You never told me.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I think someone else told me that I was pretty.
But I seldom heard it that I think…I must’ve forgotten.
I do that a lot. Forget.
You see, I need repetition to remember things, especially concepts that are so…foreign.
You never told me but I’ve heard it enough times now.
No thanks to you of course.
Yes sir, I am beautiful.
Yes ma’am, I am lovely.
The echoes of my own sound resound this truth.
You may disagree, but I no longer need you to believe me.
I don’t know why I ever needed you to believe me.
My face littered with freckles, my fatty neck, my frizzy hair, my chunky arms.
They are so pretty.
They are so me.
But you didn’t think so. And maybe I would have been okay with that if only you weren’t so…mean.
I wish you were more like The Mirror. As soon as I told her the good news she apologized.
Once my biggest critic, she is now my biggest hype man.
I wouldn’t say she’s my best friend, but we’re pretty close.
Because she also agrees.
That I am pretty.
It shouldn’t have taken this long for me to find out.
Again, I don’t know why you never told me, but that’s okay.
I’m pretty because I say so
And I don’t want to hear any more whispers about this conceited nonsense either!
I am pretty.
I said I’m pretty.
So I am pretty!
With Love,
The Road Writer
Leave a Reply