Mirror, mirror on the wall

A Story by Kat Leila

A memoir of me

When I was a teenager my worst enemy was my mirror. It hung on the wall above my vanity table staring and me and laughing. It laughed at me the way that the boys at school did, because of my fat body. It snickered at me the way the people at the stores did when I couldn't fit their sizes. It giggled at me like the cute girls in the hallways of my high school, because my face was a battle field of raging teenage hormones. When I was a teenager the mirror was my worst enemy.

Today, my mirror is my greatest friend. It nods in approval as I apply my lipstick. It winks in admiration as I pull on my leopard print pumps. It casts a reflection of perfection. My skin is soft and brown. My eyes, like pools of chocolate. My hair a mane above my head, a crown of African beauty. My shoulders are narrow, my breast are full. My waist is far from thin and yet it gently rests upon my hips, wider in span, and alluring in description. My legs are endless, leading to perfect feet. I'm not a super model, I'm a woman you would pass on the street. Then what, may you ask, is the reason for this confidence that adds to my step a carefree beat?

It lays in the fact that I no longer resent myself. I no longer feel ashamed.

I am a map of the world, my ancestors hailing from distant shores, I embrace the uniqueness of my look. I know I'm not a glutton my body isn't fat, rather its a woman's body equipped for the birth of a child. I applaud my sexuality, captivating the attention of a man, yet hidden as a treasure worth searching for, not just handed to men on the street.

I am a woman, and I am proud. I shall remain proud. I eagerly anticipate wrinkles and grey hair, stretch marks and sagging breasts. For each imperfection will add to the perfection of my life story. Children and heart ache, laughter that hurts and long summers days will all begin to etch a tale that can be told with a single glance.

This is me. I am perfect, I realize that now!