Much of what I write is fiction. This, however, is a true reflection of the struggle I am currently undergoing. It is proving, in many ways, an allegory for growth, and growth is rarely easy.

When I was
Ten-years-old
My mother told me
The facts of life,
Not just the mechanics
Of sex,
But also the sage warning
That boys (and men)
Do not like
Fat girls.
In the years that followed
Other faults were added
To the ever growing list
And as if to prove them
Members of the opposite sex
Either ignored me,
Dismissed me,
Or worse,
Looked upon me as if
They had found me
On the bottom of
Their shoe.
The exceptions were those
Who sought to prey
Upon my trusting,
Naive heart.
I learned, too well,
Not to trust
Even as I suffered
Flashbacks
To abuse that ended
With an attempted rape.
Fear ruled me
Where men were concerned
And I ceased to believe
In love for myself,
Though I was perfectly capable
Of believing in it
For anyone else.

Then you came
And so conditioned was I
In believing no one
Could see me
As a desirable woman
That I didn't at first
Recognize
That you did just that.
Soon we were friends
And confidants,
And soon the feelings of
Affection I harbored
Slowly began to blossom
Into something new,
Yet somehow old,
And for the first time
In my life
I was doing and saying
Everything right
until our friendship
Began to heat
And our flirtation became
More serious,
More seductive.
I was surprised
At the ease
With which I
Sparred with you,
The comfort and freedom
I enjoyed,
And the growing conviction
That you were the one
Who could break the chains
That had bound me
Since I was ten-years-old.

But now, suddenly,
Old doubts have begun
To whittle away
At my newfound confidence.
I've never before
Had the experience
Of mutual attraction;
In fact, I had only known
Rejection and scorn,
So why did you choose
To be different?
Do you really see
Something I can't
When I look into
Any mirror?
Or are you merely playing
Some cruel game
With the prize being
An easy notch
On your bedpost?

I once overheard
The caustic assertion
That fat equals desperate
Equals easy lay;
Do you really feel
Something for me?
Or are you enjoying
Playing me the fool?

I wish I knew
Your true intentions.
I wish I could trust you
Without my hideously scarred
Soul.
Maybe you are sincere,
That would be more
Than I ever hoped
To find.