She took each step delicately at first, careful not to fall till she mastered how to balance her weight on each leg as she jumped and landed on the steel bars. The rail track was empty. A cool breeze blew, and she loved the rush of the wind harassing her face. Her lips were molded into an upward curve that spoke the feelings of her being.
When she became more confident, the rail bars threw her legs up as soon as she landed on them. Slowly, she perfected her childish play. She didn’t plan to break into a run but she ended up doing so out of excitement, and when the clouds began to shower blessings on the soil, it only made her run faster till cardiac muscle stretched to their elastic limit. She was happy. When she stopped to catch her breath, she could not remember the last time happiness had her in a tight hug.
You had me marked. You set your rifle and blew my brains. It’s not even about breaking me to pieces. No, it’s about what you took from me. My wholeness, my sanity and the purpose of my existence. Turning me into your personal “Barbie” and then leaving me without an identity. Yet it was all because I wanted to please you, just so I could be with you and around you because I felt if I was with you, my life would be better. When it was good, you were happy, when the whole school talked, you were the star, when we went out and they took pictures, I was your prize. Every other time, I faded into the background right behind your shadow doing what I know how to do best. Making you happy. In you I thought I could find my joy but you let sadness buy a coffin for my happiness.
For you I carried a scar, a scar that ran as deep as pain unspoken, as ugly as the truth in the open, as unforgiving as molten lava. As the years rolled by, I lost me, when I looked in the mirror all I saw was a reflection of the ‘me’ you wanted. I became unreal, yet you fed me hope, hope that I should have known was a lie like the love of a slave master to a slave, hope that came around as much as the 29th of February.
How would you understand what I am saying? How would you? When you never pay attention to me. You never pause to see me yell in pain when my heels hurt or when my lungs complain of my tight dresses or when my skin complain of all the chemicals I rub on it in the name of make-up or when my stomach curses me because I refuse to feed her. All because I wanted to look slim and trim for you. Yet I was never good enough you always had to find a fault, my hair was too short, I needed a flatter stomach, my ears too big, and my nose too wide. But the one that always seem to hurt the most was when you called me fat. After all I have done, can I ever satisfy you?
The rain is freezing but I need its showers. I can’t cope with your demands any longer. I wouldn’t let you all determine what I make of myself. If all you see are my imperfections I’m so sorry for you. I wouldn’t hide under layers of cosmetics and keep my fat bum in a jean less than my size. It’s not that I don’t care about myself anymore but I wouldn’t let anyone dictate and define me only by my blemishes. If you missed playing dress up for a doll when you were younger am sorry for you, but it’s time the society accept me for who I am. Accept me with my flaws and learn to appreciate the goodness I have to offer.
Whether we are short or tall, skinny or fat, pretty of plain, broke or rich, talented or talentless, we don’t deserve to be defined by that which seems to negate us. Sometimes what seem to be shortcomings are hidden treasures that we fail to discover. Other times our limitations are deliberate divine designs that has a purpose but our minds are to shallow to conceive. We often forget that the idea behind man is a specie destined to be faulty.
Imperfect doesn’t mean incomplete, the ability to effectively utilize what you have makes you the perfect human.
Thanks for reading