What is Beauty?

 The following piece is a spoken word poem I wrote and performed for a Fine Arts Performance in 2014.  Warning: In the following piece harsh topics are addressed (i.e. self-harm, eating disorders, suicide, bullying, self-hate, etc..) If any of those subjects are sensitive areas for you, or something that might trigger you, I would encourage you to forgo reading this post. Thank you!




Ever since I was a child,
I allowed other's words to define me.
And the harshness of their tones,
Erased my concepts of reality.
Unplanned pregnancy, Unwanted-Daughter,
Cancer-kid, God-Healed.
I was always somebody's relative,
Somebody's miracle,
Somebody's answered prayer,
And never somebody.

And adolescence didn't fix this,
But adolescence changed this.
I was no longer know by my experiences,
But rather, By my appearances.
Fat, Pale, Freckly, Crooked-eyes, Broad-shoulders,
Wide-hips, "I can see your veins through your skin", Translucent.

And the harsher and harder the words became,
The more ways I looked for to numb the pain.
And the heavier and heavier each meal became.
And the lighter and lighter the number on the scales became.
And the easier and easier the self-inflicted pain became.

Foundation never covers the scars in the way you think it should.
Did you know they turn brown, before they turn white?
Of corse, it all depends where on your body,
You plant your garden of self-hate.
My mother always said I had a green thumb.

And it wasn't until One night, at sixteen years old,
I sat, crying, on my bedroom floor,
Trying to ignore,
The voices, from the bottles of pills, and the blades,
And they promised to forever take away this pain,
When I heard a whisper, clear as day.
And He had important things to say.

"Daughter, I know you hear all these things telling you,
You're not pretty, You're not lovely, You're not worthy.
Daughter, they're just not true.
I made this life especially for you.
So you have to hold on.
You've tasted all of the bad and none of My good.
Daughter, I have miraculous things waiting for you.
So Give It Time."

And I realized that night that I can't let others' words define me.
Yes, I'm the cancer-kid.
Yes, I have wide hips.
Yes, you can see my veins through my skin.

But I learned that night, That others' words don't define me.
His words define me.
And He says that I am the
Epitome of Beauty.

Things to do when the depression tries to sneak back in.

1. Pamper yourself. Take a hot bath. Add bubbles or bath bombs or essentials oils or whatever you like. Do a face mask, homemade or store bought it doesn't matter. Let the opening and cleaning out of your pores, open up and clean out you soul.  Do a hair mask, and pray that the strengthening of the cells coming from your head can strengthen that thoughts it produces as well.  

2. Read sappy poetry.  Put yourself in the writers mind. Find something in the lines that you can relate to. Pretend that the sad breakup the poet is creating art about is the breakup of your emotions from your body.  That the way they write about getting through heartbreak is about getting through a bad mental day. Keep reading until you find something that inspires you to keep going. 

3. Eat fresh oranges. Or a smoothie. Or flavored water made with fresh fruit.  Consume something that makes you feel good about your health, but don't weigh yourself. Because no matter how much weight you've lost it won't be enough on days like today.  

4. Watch your favorite comedy.  Let the crappy jokes with perfect timing take your mind off of the crappy disease with crappy timing.  Let yourself laugh. Let yourself be taken to a reality that doesn't have sadness or anger or bitterness. A place with only happy. Pretend you live there for a while. 

5. Create something.  A poem, a painting, a promise to your best friend that you'll tell them when you get bad days. Create a masterpiece full of purpose and promise for your future.  Knit, or bake, or sew something.  Do something that makes you feel creative and talented.  Put your pain to good use, so that other people can look at your art for inspiration on their bad days.  

Happy?

“Are you happy?” is a hard question to answer.

In general, yes. I’m grand. My life has never been better.

I’ve got good grades, awesome friends, and a family some would kill for. 

This town may be small, but it knows me, 

I’ve got a life here. A future. I’ve got everything to live for. 

But I wish I could tell you about the days when I’m not happy, 

How sometimes this house doesn’t feel like a home

And this town feels like a daydream.

I wish I could tell you about the days 

Those ones where I can’t find myself in the mirror

Or feel myself beneath the hot shower water.

I wish I could talk to you about the days 

Where I am not happy.

But it’s easier to say I’m better now

Than to tell you that some days are still really hard to get through