the beauty that lyes deep within the fat that surrounds my skeleton.

as I lay in my cold bed, as usual, too comfortable in my own solitude,I wounder how it would have been if I was born beautiful.

when I was a child, I wanted to be pretty, its stupid, common and quit a cliché!

however, my desire was so intense, it was my every thought, playing dress up was a ritual of mine, whenever I was asked by grown ups , of what I wanted to be when I grow up, I so innocently said, pretty! they would laugh and walk away, so clueless, of the consequence of such desires.

being pretty to me was more then just a simple physical characteristic, it was a belief, that once I become one, every issue I had in life would simply cease to appear, since the largest one is no longer there everything els would feel like a slice of cake in comparesance

however, I wasnt born pretty, I didnt grow up to be pretty.

I had an unusually large nose, I had frizzy hair, I had large hips and thunder thighs, I was 5 foot tall and desprit wanted to be in someone els`s body living someone els`s life

the day I became 18 years old, I was lost, very lost, I was officially grown up, I wasn't pretty, and it didnt seem, like I was ever going to be, I didnt know what or who I wanted to become, I had no goals, my only goal wasn't coming true,I was just stuck with the emptiness, and the self loathing, and my magazines, my magazines which felt like they were staring at me speaking to me, in my little dark room as I eat my endless bag of chocolate, under my cold sheets, telling me how ugly I am.

everyone around me, growing up, getting thin and tall and pretty while I sit here constantly reminded of how unwanted I am.

I had no Idea what kind of college would I go to, I didnt want to cause my self anymore pressure than what I already constantly inflicted.

I remember when I was young, I use to read a lot, before this whole obsession started, so I decided to go with my basic instinct, and major in English literature, and so I did.

though the days where I had to git up, and throw on cloths on my large undesired naked body, and go out the door, and face the universe every day, pained me to the bones I, bared them, for they were my only mean of survival.

however, step by step,I started falling in love with all these books, and all theses authors and poets, whose prescriptive on life was so dashingly and refreshingly different then main!

it was there sight, that caught me so intensely, there vision, the vision which basically saved my life and changed it as I know it, how they viewed the world, as an interesting place with intriguing objects, unlike my previous shattered shallow vision of everything judged by appearances, as if a pretty girl was automatically 10 times better, than a plane one.

and there words, oh there words! they always left me breathlessly longing for more!

that was a great year, my first year in collage..

I remember one morning , I had stayed up all night reading W.H.Auden poetry, and there was this one line, that caught me, as I was hiding for a while in denial of all the things that had happened to me, of all the self loathing that i still possessed but berried deep,under the multiple layers of my heart.

I was still in denial, of all the differences I had between me, and every other girl in college.

All that we are not stares back at what we are.
W. H. Auden

you know when your surprised and your in emotional shock, which quickly turns into physical shock, and your heart wont stop pounding against your rib cage..

yeah that was exactly how I felt.

the image of my lying on the floor eating my chocolate, and staring at the magazines as I watch them stare back in disgust and pity, or what my emotionality disturbed brain saw as disgust..

from that moment on, I decided, the girl on the cover of the magazine is just not me!

I started writing every day.

I met a boy

he thought I was beautiful

I didnt believe him at first

yet he managed to convince me

I have a son now

there are moments when I feel terrible, when I feel worthless, fat and ugly..

however, I remind my self, that life , to many people, though not everyone, I am talking about those poets, who miraculously survived the cruels unintelligently shallow eyes of society to see something deeper and more profound in every single one of us human beings.

this is my story, though its not much I am proud to tell it.

author note:

THIS DID NOT HAPPEN TO ME ! I am 16 years old! however I really could relate to theses kinds of insecurities god knows how much they affect me!

and the girl in the picture isnt fat, I just found it amusing, its somones parent in the 70s on tumbler..