I know I shouldn’t do it, but I do – compare.
From the flatness of her stomach, to the curves on her hips – I am lacking.
The cleavage, the light eyes, the dimples, the curly hair.
But I have the crooked teeth, the wrinkles, and the dull skin.
When I want the long legs, full lips and perfect complexion.
It doesn’t end there.
I am sad with myself when I see them – snowboarding, riding motorcycles, and being mermaids.
Because I am too scared, too uncoordinated, too old, or too anxious.
Too this, too that, but never enough.
I feel bad when I admire their accomplishments, see their passport stamps, or hear them sing.
When I don’t own anything or inspire movements or even play the guitar.
Maybe what hurts the most and makes me feel the least,
Is not having had used the gift of my body to house somebody.
To have someone that looks like me look at me.
To have someone think the world of me without wanting the world from me.
I know I shouldn’t feel it, but I do – feel unremarkable.
Not all the time, not even most of the time.
So I apologize to myself and to you,
Because I know it’s not true.
Because I know there are others that still pray for the life I live.
Because I am grateful for all the things I am, and all the things I am not.
It’s just something I do, even though I know I shouldn’t.
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