The Woman in the Mirror

Aren’t we all guilty of that little bit of trepidation, a hint of hesitation,

That little bit of derision as we look, at the woman in the mirror.

Always critical aren’t we, when we peek at the woman in the mirror?

Maybe the reflection isn’t someone with a svelte figure, or flat abs, or perky breasts like those in soap commercials;

Maybe it isn’t someone with a swan like neck or shoulder blades that jut out at the right angles;

Maybe it isn’t someone who does smoky eyes and dewy skin, pouty lips or wears lipstick the shade of red wine;

Maybe it isn’t someone who wears clothes like they’re second skin, looking fabulous, the cynosure of all eyes;

Maybe it isn’t someone with a pint sized waist to be spanned by a man’s hands, or gathered close in a

passionate, Mills and Boon embrace;

Maybe it isn’t someone with silken hair that moves with every move, cascading tresses shining

like they’re made of the moon;

Maybe none of these images stare back when you look in the mirror;

And yet, do not judge her, now more than ever.

For she is so much more than lips and butt and breasts and thigh,

She is smiles and shrugs and scars and laughter,

She is dreams and dares, or dashed hopes of happily ever afters,

She’s a life lived well, a survivor, a fighter.

Maybe a mother; a working one balancing home and job, or maybe a housewife moving from one chore to another;

Maybe a girl too confused to know what she seeks, who keeps trying things, one and two, three or more;

Maybe a grandmother with a bent over physique, telling tales eliciting cries of ‘Encore’.

How does it matter, who it is, the reflection in the mirror;

Just blow her a kiss, a wink whenever you see her;

Tell her she’s sassy and classy and divine,

And worth every inch she occupies on Earth.

Love her with all your heart and soul and mind,

This woman, you see in the mirror.

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About the Author

Priyanka Modi is a writer, environmentalist and mother. She loves to read and believes that books can change the world.