When Jacqui looked into the full length mirror that day,
What did she see that led her astray?
Was it the small bump on her nose?
The purpled birthmark above her left toes?
Or the misshapen right eyebrow that needed delicate plucking and multitasked managing?
Everything Jacqui could see before her, of herself,
Caused her to be displeased.
Nothing was perfect,
Nothing was right,
To her she needed a reimaging, an overhaul, a makeover,
To match her insides.
She knew that internally, she was a beautiful, loving, caring person,
This her mother would reflect each and every morning saying,
“Jacqui, keep being loving, keep being kind, everyone sees you for the beauty you have and are inside.”
Yet these words halted her,
It was as though she was visibly unworthy of her inner truths,
That her personality did not match the outer appearance,
And it was as though her mother was hinting at that too.
So when Jacqui looked in a reflective surface,
Desperate to find something visible to adore,
She could only find faults, problems, wrong, wrong, wrongs,
Nothing that could be appreciated and admirably looked upon and mentally stored.
But Jacqui was lovely!
Jacqui was fantastic!
She wore her head bald and proud,
A statement to the world,
That she was different from the crowd.
She knew how to pose for photos,
In a most inventive, imaginative, photogenic manner,
And with false bravado,
She could even break into runway modelesque behaviour.
It did not matter what flaws she believed she had,
For these were so minute they were small, of such paling insignificance,
That I could squash them with my forefinger and thumb into disappearance.
For the truth of the matter is Jacqui was a wondrous being, inside and out,
And she simply needed some convincing,
To know that she was wonderful, and the world was better with her,
And one fine day, at the park she happened upon a lost dog,
“Are you lost, dear honey?” she asked, bent at the knees and gently patting his scruffy fur.
“RUFF!” the dog ruffed, and led her to her future love, a great star.
With wonder, Jacqui approached his presumable owner,
And reflected in his big brown eyes,
She saw herself, awe and star struck,
Trembling quietly inside.
Was this her love, her future man, was this who she was meant to be with for life’s tumultuous ride?
Struck with a similar feeling, the man smiled at her knowingly,
“Jacqui? I’ve heard of you, beautiful, intelligent, kind and lovely You,” and with a wild anticipation, she pictured herself with him forever: him, her, and Ruff the dog, living at the house across the street, number twenty two.
I shan’t suggest any further,
Whether Jacqui had met the man who would help her understand,
With his reassuring,
That she was perfect,
Internally and externally.
But if you have a certain hunch,
That this man at least asked her out to lunch,
You’d probably be right,
And the answer would be some positively worded muttering or uttering of such and such.
The rest was for Fate to decide.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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