The Verdict Is In

I am not in love with myself and therefore, I avoid the mirror. And not solely because I don't like what I see. But I feel as if the mirror sees my insecurities, and even scarier, it sees why I'm insecure. It knows the past pains, heartaches, unfulfilled longings, rejections, frustrations, and hurts. It sees the absent father, the pastor leaving, the friends fighting, the boyfriends cheating, the relatives dying. It hears the insults, the crying, the shouting, the lying, the crashing.

The mirror's verdict is in. I have been convicted of having nothing to be in love with. Of being NOBODY. Of not being good enough. Smart enough. Beautiful enough. Sweet enough. Wanted. Needed. Loved. Appreciated. I'm guilty on all counts. My sentence is to live out the rest of my life always wondering if I can ever be what I'm not. My sentence is to live out the rest of my life always wondering if anybody can or would love me. My sentence is to live out the rest of my life second-guessing the kindness of a stranger, or the sincerity of a lover. My sentence is to be silent, shrink away, fall back, disappear, die.

I look at my jury. I don't see my peers. They stare back at me with their blue eyes (or contacts), flipping their long straight hair, crossing their long skinny legs, pulling down their shirts over flat stomachs, flashing their expensive jewelry, thinking aimless and rehearsed thoughts. They have the love and attention of men. I don't have exotic colored eyes, or long and straight hair, or skinny legs, or a flat stomach, or expensive jewelry, or a vapid mind, or men turning to look at me as I pass. They are who they are supposed to be. Not who they want to be. Not who God has destined them to be. They have been told by the same court which has tried to preside over me that Eurocentrism is to be valued. That intelligence in women is to be despised. That original thought is equal to original sin. That worth is measured by possessions. That to be loved is to be gawked at. That to be needed is to be grabbed and fondled. That they are born unwhole and can only be fulfilled by the attention of a man. They have been hoodwinked. Bamboozled. Led astray. And now they have convicted and sentenced me.

I must appeal this decision.