PRETTY (Dear Darling Daughter)
My dear, darling daughter,
I wish that I had fought her
On what exactly true beauty is
That woman who thought a mother’s duty is
To criticize, to condemn, to shame
That we are the players in life’s cruel game
And the only way to win it
To be first at any given minute
Is by looking pretty.
When I was a child, like you, my daughter,
I was an innocent girl who thought her…
her nose was the prettiest thing in this world
I was just a little girl
People said to me, “She looks just like mother!”
Eyes like hers, smile like hers, and a nose like every other
feature that matched hers.
It was music to my ears.
And then one day I saw her look in the mirror, my love
Light falling from above on her prominent frown
Noticing me, she turned around,
She said – “I wish my nose didn’t look like that
It makes my face look fat.”
The very nose I had inherited from her
Had never made me feel so unsure
Of whether or not I was pretty.
And the word ‘fat’ was then added, with a shot of pain
Into my young, girlish, gullible brain.
I was eating at McDonald’s, but I wasn’t loving it
All I thought of was the food, how I was shoving it
Down, down, down my eager tummy
And when the guilt made me tell mummy
She said, “Good. Feel the shame.
You really are to blame.
Now chal, wipe off that pout.
And as for the food, go vomit it out.”
And I’d never felt less pretty.
And that was just the start
Yet to come is the sadder part
There was this boy I liked, my darling
So very handsome, so very charming
I didn’t know how much I liked curly hair until I saw it on him!
But there was this girl, my love, this girl who wasn’t me
She was far prettier than I could ever hope to be
And he chose her.
In hindsight, it was because of her heart
But I thought it was because of the art
that was her body, her face
It made me feel like a disgrace
To the capable hands by which I was made
I was in a dark space, and there I stayed.
That’s when the worst began
I starved myself, made a rigorous exercise plan
“Good food – want to try it?”
“Can’t, I’m on a diet.”
“You can cheat for just one day.”
“No, you know what they say –
A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.”
No carbs, no fats, limited protein
Most important is that I look lean
And the advice from strangers’ Instagram reels –
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.
Skincare routines, healthy salads
All contributed to the toxic ballad
That ‘pretty’ and I shared
It scared me, how much I cared.
I told my mum, and all she said
Was ‘You’re not trying hard enough to look pretty’.
Hide imperfections behind foundation
And you’ll get wrinkles if you show frustration
And learn the style of dressing that flatters you best
And cucumber peels on your eyes when you rest
And turmeric on dark elbows and knees
And you won’t look good in jeans like these
And trim your eyebrows, you’re very hairy
And do something with that hair, you’re looking scary
And your lips are looking way too thin
And don’t open too wide when you grin
And get a membership at the gym
And your thighs are fat, make them slim
And get those love handles off your waist
And apply some sort of beauty paste
And if you’re hungry, water is all you’ll drink
And before a second helping, make sure to rethink
And oh, and you’ll need Botox when you grow
And… And fillers, too, they’ll help you glow
And closely follow each and every trend
And try to look better than that one friend.
And…
WHEN WILL IT END???
“It will not,” my lovely mother said,
“so put those fantasies to bed,
And focus instead on looking pretty.”
My love, great damage had been done
And back then, I don’t think the game was ever won
Because, according to her, the condition was to look pretty
When all I did was feel shitty.
But now things have changed.
Something beautiful was arranged:
Your birth. When I held you in my arms
I was taken in by your charms
And I thought – how could anyone see fault
In something that is so pretty by default?
And I saw on your face my own nose
And it gave me an lifetime dose
Of happiness unlike what I’d known till then
And this revelation of mine healed me, my little gem.
And I’d never felt more pretty
It takes time, it does, but you come to realise
That the word ‘pretty’ is only defined by your eyes
Based on what they see in your heart.
My love, sometimes, I do wish I could restart
I wish I could live life the way I did not at first
I hope that you never have to feel this cursed.
My love, you are my world, a child is a parent’s world
And the only advice that I will ever give my little girl
Is – love yourself. It’s cliché, and it is lame,
But all the same –
Love yourself – and I hope it will be easy…
Because I will never do to you what she did to me.