Looking for today's Writing Workshop post? Come visit me at Mommy's Still Fabulous, where I'm guest posting today! She was my first bloggy friend, and an absolute fabulous blogger, so make sure you check her out while you're there.
So, in honor of Her Fabulousness, I'm re-posting an old Writing Workshop post about my ongoing search for my inner goddess.
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall.
REFLECTION: Why are you glaring at me like that?
ME: Because I don’t like you very much.
REFLECTION: Again? We’re having this conversation again?
ME: What do you mean, again?
REFLECTION: For the last 33 years, it’s been nothing but, “why can’t you be thinner, why is your belly so poochy, why are you so short, why, why, why…” It’s enough to give a girl a complex.
ME: I haven’t always hated you.
REFLECTION: Name one time you liked what you saw.
ME: What about back in my 20’s, when I was a size 6?
REFLECTION: You wanted to be a size 4.
ME: That's not true. Remember that string bikini? You looked darn good in that bikini.
REFLECTION: Yeah, but your face was broken out. That was all you could see.
ME: When I was pregnant, I liked you then.
REFLECTION: Wrong. You spent the whole time worrying about how fat you were getting.
ME: Well… I was right. I did gain too much weight. Look at you now.
REFLECTION: You know what? I’ve had enough. I’m going on strike.
ME: You can’t go on strike. You’re my reflection!
REFLECTION: Watch me. I’m walking out of this mirror, and I’m not coming back until you say something nice about me.
ME: That’s impossible.
Reflection starts to leave.
ME: Hey, wait! Come back.
REFLECTION: (Over her shoulder) I meant what I said. I’m going to go back to bed, and I’m staying there until you learn to appreciate me.
ME: But people will think I’m a vampire.
REFLECTION: That’s your problem, not mine.
ME: (Pounding on empty mirror). That’s not fair! You little bitch, get back here!
REFLECTION: Mmmm, it's mighty comfy in here.
REFLECTION: Sure am glad I got these bamboo sheets. They're nice and soft.
ME: Come on. I really do love you…
Reflection pops her head back in.
REFLECTION: What? What was that you just said?
ME: I love you.
ME: Because you’re strong, and you’re beautiful, and you’re capable of amazing things. It’s just….
REFLECTION: (Sighing) It’s just what?
ME: Nothing. It’s nothing. You’re an amazing woman, just as you are. And in a few months, after I lose this baby weight, you’ll be even more amazing.
REFLECTION: So you’ll cut the crap?
ME: Yes. No more name calling.
REFLECTION: You promise? Because that’s verbal abuse, you know. I could call the police.
ME: No you can’t. You’re my reflection. You don’t have real hands.
REFLECTION: Do you want me to leave again?
ME: No, no. Hey, I know how I can make it up to you. Let’s go shopping. I’ll buy you something pretty.
REFLECTION: Okay, we’ll go shopping. But no dressing room tantrums, or I’ll make you buy foundation undergarments.
ME: (shudders) A girdle? No, thank you. I’ll be good, I promise.
REFLECTION: Deal. Ann Taylor, here we come… better bring the credit card.