You wouldn’t know it if you met me, because my height and physique may imply that I’m too delicate and yet to grasp pain. My posture may come off naturally straight and that may give off the fictitious perception that I am a delightful girl, but God forbid you catch a glimpse of me taking a breath of reality in order to revive whatever ability I have to keep the show going.
I’m a bitch– or so I have been told– perhaps I am… just a little bit? I am more than capable of crying on queue but most of the time if not all the time, the tears are easily run down because they’ve had more than enough time to move into and reside in my tear ducts. Being misunderstood, underestimated, relied on, overlooked and surprising is something I have grown accustomed to. See, people rarely see it coming when a reasonably attractive female comes along with something to show for her capabilities. To some degree I am aware of the blessings I have been given. I do not believe that being naïve and “unaware” of said blessings is smart. If the creators drew you to be a masterpiece that appeals to a fraction of the total audience then you should by all means learn how to weaponize the paint strokes you’ve been given.
Mere humans enjoy playing the role of glorified saints as if totally oblivious to how unmanageable that could be. We strive to not consider physical beauty as a factor when picking an employee, for instance, – of course this does not refute competence– but it does make it easier to hire someone with a face that one enjoys looking at. Therefore, I do not deny using the color on my lips, the direction of my eyes and how wide they appear, or even my voice when I venture out into the world. Some may think that it’s unfair and degrading and of course that is just fine, but in reality… the young, small girl with the pretty dress and soothing voice is the candidate that is remembered. That is the case in any aspect of this unfair, retched world. Pretty does not last but it sure as hell has a louder kick when it brings down the door.
The difference between pretty and magnificent is simple. Pretty can get through the door, but magnificent gets through the door and evolves on the other side. Magnificent is elegant, smart and has values and limits. Magnificent is aware of whatever she holds in her arsenal and knows exactly when to use what. Pretty depends on the artist’s work as opposed to her own and therefore pretty does not last or move forward simply because pretty is not fully equipped. The world can be unfair in the manner it handles pretty girls… giving them a multitude of opportunities only to have their spell ware off some time between the third of fourth failed attempt of succeeding at one given task.
Personally, I try with all my might to be magnificent and I would never dare refer to myself as the mighty She. In fact, I believe I am about 47 kilograms worth of disappointments, pain, insecurities and doubt stacked on 155cm long shelves crafted with the impenetrable belief that everything will go well. Most of the time, wondering how I wake up every morning sets camp at the very remote corners of my mind, but today they’ve decided to take a hike to the very peak of my thoughts. In the middle of the humid heat of this summer night, I smell rain. Heavy drops of never being able to get to where I want to be simply because I do not even know where that is drench me. They get into my clothes and now I’m freezing hoping to be saved. She is sitting across from me, tapping her heals on the marble ground beneath her, watching me be soaked in the rain and expecting more… expecting magnificence. As I try to watch her, hoping for her aid through my blurred up eyes I realize the features of her face. Suddenly it becomes clear that She is me.