The Mirror

She stands before me staring silently, critically.

Decades have passed.

Wrinkles, dimpled fat, and scars testify to the passage of time.

Everything society abhors.

The body should hold no record of a life lived, well or otherwise.

Perfection is the only acceptable result.

Perfection is the only impossibility.

Anger surfaces.

At herself for not achieving the impossible. At those who impose the impossible.

Sadness settles in.

For time wasted believing the lies. For energy spent in pointless pursuit.

Determination rises.

With a hope that the whispers of unworthiness will continue to fade.

With a reminder that everyone is unique and beautiful.

-Alicia Taylor

Woman at the Mirror, Nicola Pucci