Sometimes
it feels like my heart
is whispering “ouch”
over and over and over
and over again.
So maybe I should hold it
a little bit tighter
and guard it
a little bit more.
Photo credit:
http://applesloveorangespdx.blogspot.com/
Undone
It’s like floating down an empty hallway with blank walls and a thousand possible doors
And with each one you choose, you discover a new color, a new feeling, a new view
You see something that will either arouse your curiosity, drawing you in further – or push you away.
And more likely than not, both of these will occur and you won’t know where to turn or which direction to take
And so you decide to either continue discovering or you withdraw, even though the exit isn’t always clear.
And everything that used to feel so safe and warm in your peaceful, happy little cocoon
Suddenly changes when this new stranger crosses your path, disrupting all your quiet and calm
And sometimes it feels as sudden and unexpected and as out of place as Dorothy’s house dropping down into the middle of Oz
Or as natural as two bodies entwined into the deliciousness of almost one
And you have no control over how things will go or what you feel or what direction it will all take
And suddenly your mind is swirling with questions and thoughts and feelings and things that you cannot control or understand and you may never find the answers to any of it
So you step back and frantically try to recreate the peace and the calm
But it’s impossible to go backwards
After all of the lines have been crossed
And you can’t undo it and you can’t go back
Once your heart has come undone.
Beautiful
I once lived in a one bedroom basement apartment with my best friend. We had a small kitchen table without chairs and two mattresses on the floor, and that was pretty much it. Our living room was completely empty. We had nothing except a few dishes in the kitchen cabinets and a closet over-flowing with all of our clothes, bags and shoes. I’m not sure how we survived with so little, yet I would drop $50 on a half ounce jar of eye cream without thinking twice. A completely broke 20 year old girl buying anti-wrinkle cream. I’m certain I already had flawless skin, like most 20-something girls do, but I still spent a chunk of my paycheck on beauty products vs. food.
For a girl who grew up reading Seventeen magazine, the pages filled with perfect bodies and pretty smiles, not surprising at all.
And I am sure I wasn’t the only one.
And isn’t that how most girls think? We grow up believing that beauty is vitally important to our being. It defines us somehow. Life will be better/happier/easier/more fulfilling, more something, if you are prettier.
And you don’t have to accept it or agree with it. But that’s just the way it is. And that won’t ever change. We will never live in a world where beauty is not revered or desired. Not ever. So what choice do we have but to accept and embrace it?
Audrey Hepburn said “Happy girls are the prettiest girls.” Who coincidentally was one of the most perfectly beautiful women to have ever lived.
We are bombarded by messages telling us that beauty comes from within, and that being a good person is beautiful, and that true beauty is blah blah blah. But meanwhile, every man wants a Kate Upton. It’s all very confusing to a 12 year old girl, still learning about the world and trying to figure out where she fits in all of this.
And how do you teach that same 12 year old girl that inner beauty is more important than outer? Not an easy task.
And even with degrees in science and education on top of years spent trying to complete a Masters degree, I know that no amount of education will ever change the fact that I still want to be pretty, too. Because in this world, pretty is what everyone wants. Men want a beautiful woman on their arm (it’s a status symbol) and the prettiest girls find the most desirable mates. And any person- male or female- would be lying if they said they did not want to be more attractive. What person ever says “I want to be less attractive.” You can’t find that person because s/he simply does not exist. Because beauty is valued in our society. Period. Men want beautiful. And women completely fall into the beauty trap every single day.
It’s all a very ugly thing, when you really start to think about it.
An ex once told me “I would rather date a girl with a pretty face than one with a good body. Her face is the most important part.”
He’s not alone. Men can’t help it. They’re attracted to looks and the physical. And although women are attracted to good looks, too, it’s a fact that men rate a woman’s looks as the most important thing about her.
Men rate a woman’s looks as the most important thing about her. Worth stating twice, because wow. Wow and I think that explains quite a lot.
In a study done by Ask Men, men rated facial attractiveness as the #1 most desirable trait in a woman. Whereas, women rated intelligence, passion and a sense of humor in the top 5 qualities most desired in a man. And the importance of a mans looks to a woman was much lower at #9.
It’s no great mystery why women place such importance on how they look. It’s a competitive world out there and men are always searching for the next pretty face. Sure you’re pretty, but she’s really beautiful. And as beautiful as she is, that other girl is stunning. And men don’t think twice about leaving a beautiful woman for someone they consider to be more beautiful. It happens every day. So is it any wonder why women are continually trying to improve their looks?
I know a woman (in fact, an entire group of women) who have all spent thousands of dollars on surgery and injections trying to achieve “it”. One husband even commented to me that his wife no longer looks recognizable. Make that his ex-wife. They are now divorced so maybe that says something about that. I don’t know. And admittedly, if I had the means, I too might consider doing some of the same. But I don’t foresee becoming rich anytime soon, so I guess I will never find out.
In the meantime, the perfect blow out and a pedicure still make me feel pretty. I feel sexy in a great pair of jeans. And all that confidence translates into feeling attractive, which makes me feel good. So where is the wrong in that?
The problem is that there will always be someone better looking. And along with that comes the natural worry that he might leave you for someone “better.” Even if she is not actually “better” at all. My best friend- one of the most stunningly beautiful and smartest women I know- discovered her husband was cheating on her. And I’m not suggesting that men cheat only because they found someone more attractive. But the fact is men are always looking. Even if they never act upon it. And cheating is extremely common. So maybe it’s not such an irrational thing to worry about after all.
Maybe that’s just the way it is.
Feeling beautiful, looking beautiful and actually being beautiful are all very different things.
And genuine beauty has nothing to do with what you see in a magazine.
But yet, that will never change the fact that men will continue to seek exactly that physical, outward type of beauty. And therefore, women will continually strive to achieve it.
In the end, each person should do what they want. Do whatever you need to do to feel pretty and sexy and amazing and happy and beautiful.
And hopefully, one day you will meet someone so amazing in every sense of the word, that they will completely redefine your own perception of what makes a person beautiful. Suddenly, it’s not just about how they look, but it becomes about the way they smile, the words they say, the way they look at you and the way they make you feel. The same guy or girl that you once viewed as attractive, now defines beauty in every single sense of the word. And all you’ll be able to see is a person you can’t possibly imagine being without. Ultimately, that is what makes someone perfectly beautiful, above and beyond anyone else. And that is what I am going to teach my daughters.
Link: http://www.askmen.com/top_10/dating/top-10-proven-traits-men-desire-in-women.html
Photo taken from catsandcouture.blogspot.com
Little Girls
One daughter falls asleep each night with a book in her hands, quietly observing life from the edge.
While the other prefers to explore the world first hand without question or fear of consequence or boundaries.
Wildly different, yet equally beautiful.
I often wonder which will have the most fulfilling life.
Most likely, both.
One runs and sings and laughs without care. She is the devil on your shoulder. She has no inhibitions. She once said, “Mommy, I don’t think I have a conscience.” And of course I laughed. She simply sparkles and delights.
The other is quiet and submissive. She is thoughtful and calm. Until she is not. She can be the butterfly that lands on your hand. And in the next moment, a quiet storm.
And from all outward appearances, they would seem to be the same. They both have soft brown hair, perfect smiles and eyes filled with wonder.
But one giggles shyly when she laughs, while the other lights up like a hundred fireworks.
A man I once loved told me “Your girls are everything that you are.”
I can’t imagine a more beautiful thing to say to a mother. Because even on my worst days, when I don’t like myself very much, I still look at them in amazement.
Because they will both always be my two favorite people.
Fall
Her skin smells like summer and his hair smells like delicious everything.
And she’ll keep saying no until his eyes and his hands and his body beg hers to say yes.
A million times over and over and over again.
Yes.
Because you make me want to fall and whisper everything I’m too afraid to think or feel.
And it’s all like a dream.
Like a beautiful illusion, a fantasy my mind cannot take hold of.
You make me fall.
You.
therockstarsofromance.com
Heels
She loves to wear heels
But she prefers to walk barefoot with him in the sand
Holding his hand.
She loves to wear heels
But she happily tosses them to the floor
As she climbs into his bed
And wraps herself around him
Her head on his chest
So she can hear his heart beating
As the rest of the world fades away
And their world is just waking up.
Dreamy bedroom via Honeypie Living
.
And she’ll toss them on the floor next to your bed….
Kiss
She imagined his lips kissing hers, soft and perfect. And how she was so drawn to his beautiful smile. He laughed as they talked and she couldn’t stop staring at his lips and wondered how they would taste on hers.
And as her thoughts stirred, he leaned over and softly kissed her.
His scent consumed her. Nothing else existed in that moment except for the heat and the electricity between them. And suddenly she did not want to be there. She didn’t want anything except for him. She wanted all of him.
She wanted to forget yesterday and every moment before this one. She didn’t care about tomorrow or who might be watching and she couldn’t think about what might happen after he left.
All she wanted was his lips and his mouth and his hands all over hers. She wanted to touch and feel every inch of him. She wanted him to kiss her softly, then harder. Over and over again. But mostly she wanted his body tangled with hers. And if that was the last time she ever saw him, it wouldn’t matter because these moments would live on in her imagination.
And without a word, as if he had read her mind, he took her by the hand and led her to the door.
Photo credit: John Dolan.
Old Man
The old man next door lives in a beautiful old brick house. The 3rd floor attic windows are framed with white curtains.
Each day as I drink my morning coffee, I can see him out my window, as he fills the many bird feeders in his yard. He comes out the side door and walks slowly to the old red wooden shed a few yards away from his house. He carries a large green bucket back and forth, filling it with bird seed. He does this several times, as he has many feeders in his yard. I have never seen his face but he has a full head of thick white hair. He stands about 6 feet tall, but it’s hard to tell because he is slightly hunched over. He always wears a tall pair of black Wellingtons pulled up over dark gray pants and a plain brown coat.
Each morning when I open my back doors to walk the dog, I can hear all of the birds chirping happily, loudly.
The white flowered curtains in the attic windows suggest a woman lived there once, too. But I have never seen anyone but him. And because I don’t know anything about this man, I imagined his and her story in my head.
They fell in love at fifteen. High school sweethearts. He thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Small and fragile. He waited patiently until after they both graduated to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Very much in love, they dreamed of starting a family. They saved enough money and were able to buy a big beautiful brick house in the country. They imagined filling each room with small voices and little feet running and playing in the garden.
They tried for many years to have children, but were unsuccessful. They later found out she was unable to have children. Eventually they stopped trying. There would be no children to wake them up each Christmas morning. No birthday cakes to bake. No tiny hands to pick flowers from the garden on Mothers Day.
The years made her more fragile, but yet she spent her days outside, lovingly tending and planting her favorite flowers as he built beautiful bird houses from recycled old wood to hang in all of the trees.
Spring became their favorite time of year and they would spend their days outside, enjoying the beautiful sanctuary they had created together.
The years went by and she fell ill. In her final days, he never left her bedside. He hired a nurse to care for her in their home. One night, as he admired her peacefully asleep, she slipped away from him quietly, as he gently held her thin hand.
He retired and kept to himself, spending his days alone. Sometimes reading, but mostly looking out the window, watching the birds in their weed ridden garden. His nights spent warding off insomnia.
And now he gets up with the sun each day, and sometimes before the sun. He sits on an old painted bench next to the back door, resting his weary hands on the worn wood. He puts on his Wellingtons and his old brown coat and goes outside to feed the birds.
The garden is overgrown with leaves and vines, but spring is just around the corner. Soon he’ll be busy pulling and tending and planting again.
I saw the old man yesterday. The sun was out and the air was crisp. A bag of soil, a watering can and some gardening tools, all lined up carefully next to the shed.
Each spring he does his best to restore the garden to it’s original beauty, knowing it will never be the same.
He does it because it reminds him of her.
But it will never be as beautiful as the woman whose hands can no longer hold his.
Words
I wish I could look into your eyes and tell you everything that would make you understand.
But I don’t know what those words are. Or if they even exist.
Maybe we would see each other and the words would just fall naturally in that exact moment.
And we would sort them out together.
Or maybe we would simply look at each other and we would both just know.
We would see everything we ever needed to say in each others eyes.
But mostly, all the things we never needed to say.
Because we both know.
And maybe no words would be needed at all. – MMP
They would walk for hours through the streets of each new city.
Laughing and talking and discovering each one together. Creating memories.
And discovering each other along the way.
Untitled 1214
He was the most beautiful man
I ever knew
Until I realized
I didn’t know him
at all.
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