Sometimes Shocking to see,
the Stranger in my Mirror, who looks like Me. I recall younger days, thinner versions,
Once upon a time, I was most likely,
just as cocky as Miley-
just not as famous.
What do you do? Once you lose that smooth small stomach,
the perky C bra breasts, the stride in your step, the seduction upon your hips,
the fullness of your lips, when the age of youth disappears,
and you become a M’mam instead of a Miss?
When you look into the mirror, and a stranger sits?
Glaring back at you, dimly-reminding you faintly,
that beauty lies in the beholder-instead of the girth of your thighs.
I am blessed to look many years younger-than I really am.
It’s a trick of my Mothers gene pool.
Wrinkles and gray hair do not scare me-no way-anyway.
I really do not mind.
But sometimes, I look at the Stranger in my Mirror-
and can’t help but think,
I am rocking middle age, despite my Venus Size.
I can still feel beautiful even when there is,
a media war, a rampage of BMI’s, a negativity upon
the average woman who is judged to be
“Plus-sized.” I can still feel my beauty, when my husband
looks at me that way, he once did all those years ago,
into the land of yesterday.