They, Don’t Exist

They, Don't Exist

I’m never going to be the petite supermodel society has brainwashed you into thinking is the right match for you.

My legs will have cellulite that hasn’t been airbrushed, my muffin top and back fat will always be a project for me to work off, every little wart and skin tag I try hard to remove will still plague me, and these hairs on my chin don’t just magically disappear; I will forever slave over them, even if you can’t see them.

My curves will remain curves, even when I slim them down and you may or may not feel intimidated by my stature, because society believes couples need to look like a traditional wedding cake topper.

You will like my personality, you’ll even be attracted to it, but you will second guess at some point what others will think when you imagine kissing me, holding my hand, or hugging me in public.

But, no matter how often I ridicule the woman in the mirror, pinching this, tucking that, and wishing things would disappear, I will not become the woman I am by comparing myself with the woman I am not.

This is where you come in. Like me for who I am and who I will become, encourage me from the inside out, and realize airbrushed women do not exist; like unicorns, they are imaginary. Behind the façade of media, they are women struggling with being so called perfect. Whatever that looks like.

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