Weekends you visited relatives.
While the adults smoked, talked, played 500,
you grabbed the stack of women’s magazines
ubiquitous in homes of grandmas, aunts. You
were dazzled by shiny pages bright
with exclamations and color. Exquisite
models of femininity smiling, poised,
flawless, bodies curved and slim, skin
smooth, eyes darkened. Sexy, confident,

You inhaled them, planned how
to BE them, absorbed, memorized
beauty tips, fashion dos and don’ts,
products to try, diets to go on,
places to shop, relationship advice.
Magazines were your one-person
bible-study group, and you
were always an excellent
student, such a good

From this far vantage, I
wish for you something
entirely different, my
Darling. To have a dream
of your future vastly greater
than any advertisement
tries to sell you, to know
your worth beyond man-
ufactured beauty ideals. To
not believe you must achieve
some sculpted body or forever
live in shame. To not waste
years, decades, in pursuit
of what will somehow
never never never be

My wish for you, my
Precious, is to truly
know you are Enough
already, at 11, at 53, and
beyond… spectacularly,
beautifully, wholly
Enough. Put down
the magazines. They
can not tell you who
you are. That will
come in time,
with patience,
with growing,
with trust and
love, from


April 2018

Photo credit: Sunyo, and Christoper Campbell, courtesy of Unsplash.com