My shameful little secret

[hesterwild]

Hush now, I have something painful to say.

There was a time in my life when success and happiness meant being attractive.
Not just sexy - smart, funny, wise - attractive.
My energy was poured here,
My drive to behave, to look, to feel a certain way
inspired by the need to pull people in towards me.

This needs remains,
now a dull and muffled moan
seeping out from under the curtain of denial I wear as a shroud.
Today I am a mother I do not need my former perfect breasts.
Today I am a professor I do not need to force eloquent expression.
Today
I wish I had outgrown my need to be attractive.

I have sacrificed.
Lost my shape to birth and nourish my daughter
Lost friends to focus and ambition.
The world tells me be proud
Mostly I feel loss.

I have a hole that can't be filled by sweet baby giggles,
remains vacant despite generous compliment,
but resonates with the echos of my longing to be vibrant again.
I cover it up with a contrived sense of accomplishment
because, after all, the appearance of confidence is the biggest part of

being attractive