You’re Pretty

Has someone ever called you pretty? Looked into your eyes, held space and genuinely told you that you are absolutely beautiful?

And you cringe. Your body reacts. 

The voice you have allowed to move in with you says, you’re not pretty! That person doesn’t mean that. They just want something or need you to be appeased. You believe that voice. You believe that voice because you have known that voice your entire life. It’s familiar and you, right now, trust it more than the face in front of you.

I trust that voice more than I trust myself.

Thinking about it now, I don’t think I ever believed it from anyone. Not my friends, my partner nor my family. Though I never believed it, I needed to hear it. Tell me the sweet nothings.  I imagined how those words would sound one day like today. Coming from someone else. It should sound different. 

Nope. Sounds the same. 

And the door that I keep trying to hold open, closes. A better visual, I freaking slam it shut!

I want to hug my knees tight into my chest. Soothe my wounds. Then, KICK myself!

What is this? I thought I was ready. I am capable of being vulnerable. I literally have a blog where I have opened myself up to sharing the intimate raw details of my journey to everyone. 

I have unapologetically said, I’m looking for more because I am now, capable of more. 

Am I? 

There are more layers to this healing business than I could have ever imagined. 

I remember the birthday parties I had when I was growing up. There was a game where the prize was wrapped in several different layers of wrapping paper. Every layer of wrapping paper had a prize, 25 cents, dolla if yuh lucky, until you got to the prize. 

The music would play and when it stopped whomever had the gift got to remove a layer and claim the money taped on the paper. We’d do this until the prize was won. Every layer unwrapped was an exciting surprise. How much money would I win? How many more layers? What could the prize be? 

Every layer removed had a gift. Though it wasn’t THE gift, it was a prize that said, Good Job! You’re almost there! Keep going! There’s something much more exciting under these layers waiting for you. 

A promise. 

I unwrapped another layer. 

@

I am capable of being vulnerable. I talk about it. I write about it. Just physically, the act of vulnerability, the real prize, I haven’t opened that yet. 

I wish I knew how many layers were left. How many, ‘you’re pretty’ I am away from believing it. Just not physically either. Pretty in its entirety. 

As my Granny would say, pretty is as pretty does. 

Right now, I’m just going to let the waves of realization wash over me. Take the small win in recognizing where I still need work. I close the door and lock myself in, which looks like my quick sarcasm, my dismissive behavior towards affection and my disbelief that I am pretty. That someone can truly see me as pretty.  

I already have my audio books on vulnerability ready for a re listen. Words have a way of loving on me, much like a mother loves her daughter.

Next time, I hope to allow myself to believe the words. If heart ache follows it, screw it. My heart has been broken before. It has always come back stronger and with great writing content!

To the next door, I’m going to BUSS IT WIDE OPEN cause 3-6-9, Damn girl you fine! (Me, saying YOU ARE PRETTY! )

Signed: A Pretty Girl

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