Accepted

The pressure on the prepubescent to be pretty is

ridiculous.

Six inch heels for the 42 inch girl:

It should add to her

beauty,

right?

Now they have rejected all of these standards for

pretty or beautiful

and have accepted the fact that all women are beautiful.

But that same pressure hasn't left the

"men"

the ones who are taught to value

muscles more than a book.

I used to feel this pressure to be attractive,

the pressure was so strong it manifested itself in my life.

Oh no wait, that's just my shirt.

I walked in to my middle school class feeling attractive, wearing my nicest clothes until I hear a 

sharp comment about the weight that came when my dad left.

He was

taken

by the hands I used to pray to for comfort.

Suddenly a crowd of eyes faces me,

Dark smiles, the heat of their laughter burning away any sense of confidence I had built up,

broken.

My smile

broken

My confidence

broken.

I sat down in the tight desk I could not fit;

I did not fit

in.

As time went on, the torture got worse.

I would hug the toilet night after night.

It became the only friend who could help the pain go away.

All the pain gone with

one finger

one flush.

The magazines taunted me with their pictures of plastic perfection, but little did I know that my father in heaven has created me in his image.

I am perfectly imperfect and I have accepted that now.

If I had the power vested in God's hands, there would be no "perfect"

A man could be a man without being compared to any star in the sky and wonder

why

he isn't

perfect

like the false idols we worship all the time.