People will comment on your face, your hair, your figure, before they comment on your message, your heart, your thoughts.
They will tell you that your breasts are a distraction from your message as if you have to choose one or the other: breasts or intelligence.
People try to mentor you or protect you without being asked, as if you are a lost bird in a sea of dragons.
They will assure you that when you were sexually abused as a teenager, you were partly responsible for it because you wanted it. Why else would a beautiful young woman spend time with an older man?
We are encouraged to be child-like and demure so our beauty isn't as potent.
This will be the reason you hear for the abuse, “If you weren’t so beautiful and mature, it would be easier for me.”
Men will turn their heads and stare at you and struggle with feelings of arousal towards you, even ones that are not supposed to. Sometimes you try to convince yourself it’s not happening to keep these men in your life and not look like the crazy one.
You’re encouraged to dress “modestly” to make it “easier” for these people. You are constantly worrying that your body is “too much” and trying to find ways to cover up. But it still doesn’t make a difference. Even at 15.
You are told that it’s normal for all to comment on your body. To call you a “brickhouse” and show you off, like a trophy.
You might be grabbed on trains, in grocery stores, in homeroom by some punk that you don’t tell on.
You hide your beauty under layers of fat, alcohol, weed, drugs, Netflix, physical/verbal abuse, shitty self-talk, hoping you won’t ever have to deal with the pain of having a healthy body again.
For a time you think it is chaste and holy to rid yourself of physical beauty, be incredibly thin (losing your womanly body) or not caring at all, no makeup, no joy in your clothing, like the saints. You think God wants you taking little joy in your appearance because pride leads to abuse.
Some women automatically think you’re a bitch and sit around talking about you. It is not always easy to join circles of women without feeling a bit ostracized.
Women hold their husbands tighter around you, as if the mere presence of you could unleash a pack of wolves.
You are not alone in the risk of being beautiful.
Every woman carries it every day.
Next week I will write on: The Risk Of Claiming Your Beauty.
Stay tuned beautiful one.