Wake up, greet the day with wonder, smile, and breathe deeply, effectively locking away the fear, uncertainty, and doubt; useless worries once you learn to feel grateful for every moment. That’s what they told her would make all the difference, would set her path straight and true from here on out.
Over the years she had fallen headlong into these beliefs, sharing them with anyone and everyone she encountered, for she never simply met people, she embraced them; took them into her spirit, even if only for a moment, to connect in a way that said “I see a bit of you and you matter,” so that regardless of any hardship they might be enduring, she had made an honest attempt to privately honor and acknowledge their unique and important journey–thereby enriching her own.
Her incredible strength, the fears she had overcome by sheer force of will, the hard-won self esteem that had included long hours staring at Playboy images just so she could feel herself crumble in sick comparison, only then being able, years later, to take each shattered piece of herself and finally embrace the amazing beauty of women, with their intoxicating curves and complex, swirling emotions–acceptance that had included her own imperfections, and yes, her own beauty.
She had reflected on all of this in the seven minutes between Honey’s (not her real name) act and her own, even repeating the mantra that had rebuilt her: I love my strong, healthy, beautiful body, as she stripped down to her G-string and tassels, imagining the smiling faces of the men she would entertain, and the fun she would have doing it.
Today’s post is part of Lillie McFerrin’s weekly “Five Sentence Fiction” challenge–this week’s word: faces