|
Apr 18, 2003 Driving, with the windows down and the radio up. Singing along with Madonna, Uncle Kracker and Josh Kelly. The wind combs invisible fingers through my siren red hair. I breeze through downtown, I watch with inner amusement as heads turn, mouths smile, hands lift in salute of the beauty on wheels driving by. I used to watch the gorgeous girls, hair dancing in the wind, music blaring, as if daring the world to tell them no. They knew they were magnificent, and they played it up shamelessly. I never thought that one day I would challenge the world with fire in my eyes. I have always been the quiet, plain one, the one who hides in the corner, watching in awe at the women who knew that they were sexy and proved it. Then one day, I walked into the room, I wasn’t feeling all that beautiful, but I was angry. My head was up, my eyes flashing, my hair a crimson lion’s mane. I saw myself in a mirror, I didn’t recognize myself, but everyone else did. For a moment I was the beauty, I was Miss Thang. I loved it, jaws dropped, eyes widened, and guys turn their whole attention on me. And that afternoon, I drove with the windows down, my music blasting, daring the world to take me on. And, everyone took notice. ------------ About the author: Catherine has joined the AirForce, and continues to be aware of the eating disorders of her fellow women. Email: rumpleteaser0697@yahoo.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|