What Women Say...
I am not vain nor self-concious.I love my eyes. I'm told I have beautiful eyes.I like that my smile looks genuinely joyful. I don't mind my hips. I love shaking them left to right,with my Ipod while I'm cleaning,doing homework, or before getting in the shower. I'm forgiving of how my body looks,I know there's no perfect mold. So I chose to love who I am.
Women say I need to focus on companionship,women in my family wonder what is wrong with me.Is something wrong with me? I don't date. I haven't been kissed.I haven't held the hand of someone I loved and felt his hand hold me back. The women in my family curl up on the couch like a slumber party's group of gossipy girls, and ask if there's someone special I have my eye on. Each time I speak, I feel like I'm letting them down. I'd wish that they would lose interest in asking, but they never did.
It is possible for a pretty girl to feel ugly through casual, nonchalant glances. It is easy for a girl to get the hint that there's something wrong with her without someone forming it into words. Words are nothing without the style that portrays it. I ignored them as a little girl when they'd mention boys. They'd bring it up while tying my shoes, or as we were sitting down for dinner. While my love life remains dormant, the women I'm friends with also have gone through the relationships stages, have grown up in that aspect. Some are lucky to have been blessed with wonderful husbands and wives that would conquer the moon and gather the stars in order to make symbolic portraits of their devoutness. My sister will have her first child in a few months, and I can hardly breath at the excitement of new life, and love. This is for her, her time.
I would love to know who I am privileged to spend the rest of my life with.I would love to share my happiness and successes with someone who loves how I shake my hips to Shakira and who smiles brighter because they see me smiling back at them. On a bright note, I'm glad I haven't gone through rough drafts of love before getting to a masterpiece.
Let it be known, this is not something depressing. I told you, I love who I am. While younger kids in my class would scribble over the black lines while coloring, I did one of two things: I would color halfway and get discouraged, or I would take my time and outline the picture in dark color,then lightly shade in the rest. I do feel discouraged. I start to think falling in love wasn't in my cards.Twenty years old and I haven't been kissed. Not once. God talks to me though, and promises me one day I will meet my someone, and he would be worth the wait. He says the secret to staying hopeful is to look straight ahead and cover my ears.
He said to tell other little girls that love and beauty has to grow first from within, and one day when it blossoms, a certain someone will see it, admire it, and love it.
Women say I need to focus on companionship,women in my family wonder what is wrong with me.Is something wrong with me? I don't date. I haven't been kissed.I haven't held the hand of someone I loved and felt his hand hold me back. The women in my family curl up on the couch like a slumber party's group of gossipy girls, and ask if there's someone special I have my eye on. Each time I speak, I feel like I'm letting them down. I'd wish that they would lose interest in asking, but they never did.
It is possible for a pretty girl to feel ugly through casual, nonchalant glances. It is easy for a girl to get the hint that there's something wrong with her without someone forming it into words. Words are nothing without the style that portrays it. I ignored them as a little girl when they'd mention boys. They'd bring it up while tying my shoes, or as we were sitting down for dinner. While my love life remains dormant, the women I'm friends with also have gone through the relationships stages, have grown up in that aspect. Some are lucky to have been blessed with wonderful husbands and wives that would conquer the moon and gather the stars in order to make symbolic portraits of their devoutness. My sister will have her first child in a few months, and I can hardly breath at the excitement of new life, and love. This is for her, her time.
I would love to know who I am privileged to spend the rest of my life with.I would love to share my happiness and successes with someone who loves how I shake my hips to Shakira and who smiles brighter because they see me smiling back at them. On a bright note, I'm glad I haven't gone through rough drafts of love before getting to a masterpiece.
Let it be known, this is not something depressing. I told you, I love who I am. While younger kids in my class would scribble over the black lines while coloring, I did one of two things: I would color halfway and get discouraged, or I would take my time and outline the picture in dark color,then lightly shade in the rest. I do feel discouraged. I start to think falling in love wasn't in my cards.Twenty years old and I haven't been kissed. Not once. God talks to me though, and promises me one day I will meet my someone, and he would be worth the wait. He says the secret to staying hopeful is to look straight ahead and cover my ears.
He said to tell other little girls that love and beauty has to grow first from within, and one day when it blossoms, a certain someone will see it, admire it, and love it.
Comments
Post a Comment