Ever since I was young,

I have been told that beauty

Looks like a tall, skinny, blonde girl

With sparkling blue eyes

And a gap between her thighs,

Used to disguise

Her enjambment cries,

Like a shiny prize

That everyone covets.

I was told that

Beauty doesn’t have

One hundred definitions

And if I couldn’t fit all the

Terms and conditions,

I would never be as good as everyone else.

The reflection staring back at me

In the mirror became my own worst enemy.

She never seemed to be good enough

To reach society’s standards.

All I wanted was a way to escape

All these magazine covers,

And clichéd lovers,

That stood in the way of happiness.

And I realized, that that power

Came only from inside

My vibrant heart

With desire pumping through every single vessel.

I learned to embrace

Scars,

Bruises,

Stretch marks,

Pimples,

Freckles,

Scratches,

Bumps,

And dimples.

They all make me who I am,

And just because society doesn’t like them

Doesn’t mean I can’t.

And above all of this,

 There was something I could do

In order to get through.

It may not work for you,

But I know internal beauty is true,

And I guess all I’m trying to say is

I just want to be beautiful, too!

After all that wasted time

Spent bottling up my fears,

Here I am

Stating loud and clear,

That being “perfect” is overrated.

I don’t need porcelain skin,

A chiseled chin,

A breathtaking grin,

Or a body so thin.

Because I have the best beauty,

And that is the type that comes from within.