Beneath The Scars
Wife, mother, career woman; that’s what some people see, that’s what they think defines her. And yet, she’s more. So much more.
Beneath the scars.
She leads her life empathically; and it is she who people turn to in times of strife and struggle. She’s available; and with that availability comes vulnerability. She’s quick to tears when the emotions grow too strong and wash over her. And yet, through those tears, she’s not afraid. No, she’s willing to show the raw power of her passions.
She leads with her heart, which carries little nicks, as if a knife flicks back and forth across its surface like a metronome. Are these the scars that define her now? The lost trust, the cynicism. She worries that she’s lost a piece of herself in the hubris, the acts of pure malevolence pushed on her. For what? The meanness of the world (that grows just a little more foul every day) weighs on her. It presses on her chest, her heart.
She worries how she can rise above it.
And yet she’s already above it. Above it all. The beauty isn’t in her scars; they don’t define her so much as they complete her.
Her true beauty is in her soul, which comes bursting out her heart and it translates in her words, her deeds. The goodness in her advice; the kindness in her touch; the reassurance in her voice.
It’s what people who truly take the time to look at her in the whole, the entirety, that’s what they see, and that - well, that is exquisite.
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