She is beautiful.
No wrinkles, no grey hairs.
Satin skin and velvet hair,
Reflections of sun kissed youth.
Her locks frame an ageless face.
There, that reflection in the mirror.
How did I not see her?
How was I focused on the wrinkles,
The blotches, the unruly hair?
How did I not see her softness, her feminine poise?
How did I not see the way her features dovetail,
Fit together perfectly by the Creator.
Oh, the lights return.
Now the blatant truth stares back at me.
Grey hairs, just where I’d left them,
Wrinkles, getting deeper by the day,
Puffy eyes, whiskers, pores the size of planets.
Unmanageable, frizzy hair.
There I am again, that’s right.
Huh. Beautiful? Yeah, right.
Sun spots, rolls of skin, flat chest, large behind.
Thighs outlined by unmerciful stretchmarks.
Cuticle covered nails,
Collar bones piercing the skin,
Spider-veins webbing my legs,
Head to toe
Saturated with flaws.
But with all these imperfections,
With my unbeautiful wrinkles,
My unbeautiful skin spots,
The unbeautiful whiskers and pores.
With my unbeautiful rolls,
The unbeautiful stretchmarks,
My softness, my feminine poise,
The perfect way my features match,
Am a masterpiece.
In all we’ve been trained to see as ugly,
I have grown to see my beauty.
Scars adorn adult knees and elbows?
Marks of a happy childhood.
Rounded middle and filled out thighs?
Marks of delicious chocolate indulgences.
Dark spots freckle the skin?
Marks of beach adolescence and innocent heartbreaks.
Wrinkles dancing ‘round my lips?
Marks of happy days filled with laughter.
All the beautiful marks of life,
Blessings disguised as blemishes.
A masterpiece of the Creator.
© Hend Hegazi 2016