"Pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel like you're less than, less than perfect" (Pink, Perfect) "You could never be a more beautiful you" (Johnny Diaz, A More Beautiful You)
These words speak countless truths to the beauty of women, seen by the world but not by themselves. By whatever means that they do not see the beauty that they possess, songs like these try to shed some much needed light into their shadowy darkness.
For much of my existence, I held a confidence unyielding against change or ridicule. I was beautiful to me, no matter the murmur of the unfriendly, or jealous..I had the backing of my father and grandfather that reinforced that I was what I thought I was. Then the ultimate reinforcement came in the most absurd and devilish package, convincing me that I was like honey to men..desirable, beautiful, wanted. That is all any woman really wants, is it not? Years of possession, degradation, and being tossed aside caught up with the psyche and I am now the woman in these songs, that must be constantly reminded that I am worthy, that I am beautiful.
I constantly question anyone that claims that they want me and if they do want me, I figure it is for one thing only (as my experience with men has been that they all want to possess me). They like my fight, my fire, my flare for life; but as a moth to a flame, they can not take it for more than a short while before they are gone. I am a strong, confident, highly intelligent, bold and brazen, beautiful woman...so why do I not see that when I look at myself? Why do I cast my eyes down when looked upon, when I used to challenge back my admirers? Why do I turn to a mushy little school girl scared of her own reflection when a gentleman professes his desire to be my partner? I immediately question myself, his motives and everything about life; turning into someone I do not know, nor does the gentleman and alas, he is gone...
Why can't I see that I'm F#*@KING PERFECT the way I am?
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