Someday, I tell myself, I will learn to love.
I will learn to love it when I'm a little bit silly or awkward, and simply laugh and move on.
I will learn to love all the bumps and creases and scars on my skin, the dimples and redness and pores and all.
I will learn to love that little girl inside of me whom I have banished since the first time I learned what it meant to be beautiful...and that I didn't fit the bill.
I will gather her into my arms, all shaky and crying, and I will tell her that it's okay if she doesn't look like everyone else around her, if her eyes are too small or her skin too yellow.
I will look at her, and I will see mysel
Someday, I tell myself, I will learn to love.
I will learn to love it when I'm a little bit silly or awkward, and simply laugh and move on.
I will learn to love all the bumps and creases and scars on my skin, the dimples and redness and pores and all.
I will learn to love that little girl inside of me whom I have banished since the first time I learned what it meant to be beautiful...and that I didn't fit the bill.
I will gather her into my arms, all shaky and crying, and I will tell her that it's okay if she doesn't look like everyone else around her, if her eyes are too small or her skin too yellow.
I will look at her, and I will see mysel
In their world, everything was divided into two. There was good and bad. Day and night. White and red.
White, she had been told, was the color of purity and chastity, of elegance and grace. White was good, white could do no wrong.
She was the White Queen, she was the ambassador of truth and beacon of hope. What did it matter, she reasoned to herself, that the Red Queen was older? It should be crystal clear to all who truly deserved the crown. Red was crime. White was justice. Red was evil. White was good. Red was unfit. White was worthy.
And so she had plucked that crown, shining and glittering, right off her sister’s head, and se