Finding the princess within…………

The title of this post is in no way disenfranchising (just had to jump on the bandwagon using this word whether we know the meaning or not) the menfolk, you can still find the prince within but you know it’s girls over bros….


She pauses in middle of her writing, her pen slightly suspended over the paper as she remembers how she felt when Lola called her fat in front of a dozen people. Thing is, Lola said it as a joke but we all know that truths are almost always spoken in form of jests. She drops her pen, stands up from her desk, walks to the front of the floor length mirror at the corner of her bedroom and examines herself. She turns right, turns left, folds her tummy, does a 360 and marches to her sister’s room with the question “do I look fat in this dress” burning on her lips.

She calls my cellphone, I don’t pick, she leaves a bunch of messages on my phone, that wasn’t enough, she gets in her car and drives all the way to the school where I teach with the belief that she would catch me at work to discuss the issue that was eating away at her. As she approaches the door to my classroom, these words from Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal woman” being read by one of my students stops her in her tracks…

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

She turns, walks back to her car and drives home with the words she just heard echoing over and over in her head. I run into her several weeks later and I could just tell, there was something different about her, an extra spring to her steps, a ready smile on her lips, a softer touch to her persona and when I asked she simply said “I found inner contentment”.

Maybe someday, I might find the courage to share my own struggles with inner contentment…..

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