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Being Pretty Is the Last Thing a Lot of Women Ought to Think About
I wish that we weren’t startled by scar tissue and other deformities.
I feel very sad when people are hard on someone for wearing a large-sized shirt. Why be surprised when someone’s toes look a little different from what we expect?
I wonder about the story behind bumpy and/or discolored skin, faded burn marks, former scabs and scratches, fresh bruises upon old ones, eyes that have become different sizes due to injury, noses that now look unnaturally shaped, worsening pockmarks, tan lines that don’t easily go away, missing teeth, dented flesh, maimed limbs and any other deformity.
I think about those who live with scars from a beating or more for the rest of their lives. I think about how they could possibly have even a millimeter of faith in people after enduring horrendous trials and tribulations.
Because I tend to notice how women look than men, I’d like to say that I don’t mind seeing women who can’t quite close their mouths all the way, or who have sagging flesh, or who hardly have any hair because they can’t grow it.
I would like to see more of those faces and bodies affected by bombings, gunshot wounds, and kicks and punches and whippings. I feel that such victims of violence shouldn’t feel afraid to show themselves.
