Mother used to tell her;
Sit straight, smile and look your best.
No, not like that
Tuck your shirt in
Ensure they don’t look like second skin
People talk
Their wandering eyes will linger
In times of aging and scrutiny through glass screens
Don’t you dare be yourself,
Don’t you dare wear those slacks and muddy shoes,
Don’t you cut your hair above your ears.

Here,
Taint yourself with shades of deception
Smear it along your opinionated mouth
Because a girl should not do anything but
To look beautiful.

Am I beautiful?
Do I feel beautiful?
She was taught to despise herself
But she made sure to display a façade so someone would love her someday
Because that’s what matters, right?

Sixteen and her eyes were broken taps
Magazine cut outs on the wall were her dreams
But her waistline kept on expanding
And she couldn’t comprehend on what’s happening
She didn’t know that it was not okay to look up to photoshopped beauties
She wasn’t told that high school boys and girls could scar her
She wasn’t told that it was okay to speak up about slut shaming and cyber bullying from immature boys whom she did not reciprocate
She wasn’t told that it was not okay to starve herself because she was still growing
And she wasn’t told that everything will be okay.

Instead, she was told to sit straight, smile and look her best
To tuck her shirt in
Ensure they didn’t look like second skin
Because people did talk
And their wandering eyes lingered.

Twenty and counting
she let go of someone whom she thought was the one
Because he couldn't differentiate between a woman standing up for herself not because it was time of the month
But he was just a boy
And she deserved better.

So, she packed her aspirations, knowledge and independence
And burned the bridges of petty expectations
Because she is worth more than her waistline,
pretty face,
ovaries,
And so do you.

Through glowing screens on the palm of our hands
We were nursed to be
Skinny, pretty, soft, quiet
Manly, athletic, pretty.

“But I don't care whether it's your gender, your looks, your weight, your skin, or where your love lies.
None of that matters because standards don't define you.

You don't live to meet credentials established by a madman,
you're a goddamn treasure whether you wanna believe it or not
and maybe that's what everyone should start looking for.” – Savannah Brown