Sunday, 21 February 2010

The price of power

All the power I have comes from the mirror: it comes from seeing fresh, clear skin, big brown all-absorbing eyes, soft dark hair and plump pink lips. From toned legs, a trim waist and slim arms - my power comes from my confidence; my power comes from the way I look.
It's a lie, when people say it's what's inside that counts. But we all know this. We all know that's a load of crap. The world is powered by superficiality.

As a woman, being beautiful is more important than anything. Period. And I don't mean fake hair-extensioned, plastic beauty, I mean REAL beauty.
I mean that naturally glossy smile, that healthy twinkle in the eyes, skin that glows and a body that's lean and fit: with charisma that sparkles.
You see, when a woman has all these things, she can command anyone - any man, even any woman.

I don't have Real Beauty.
But sometimes, with a great deal of effort, I can come pretty close. The experiences I have in this state are simply ethereal.
I can wrap people around my little finger. I can charm them completely. I can manipulate them. I can win.

I remember, as a teenager, I used to look in awe at those girls: the stunning ones, the ones that everybody loved. I knew even then, that the key to their power was not simply in the way they looked, but in their charisma. The combination of the two makes for a force that cannot be reckoned with. That charisma, I'm sure, came from their confidence - because they knew they looked amazing - because they knew they were better than the rest of the girls - they knew they were superior.
I didn't have it.
I've always wanted it.
I'm getting so close now.

When I stand in front of the mirror I can see the bumps of my hips bones. I can pinch fewer inches around my belly. I can outrun half the guys my age. When I do my hair and makeup, I'm starting to feel it... the charisma and charm, the sparkle in the eyes... the power.
I'm starting to believe in myself. At 'The Club', nobody knows any different. Nobody sees anyone other than a confident, bubbly, life-loving, pretty girl. For the first time; I can play that girl.

But is it making me happy? I'm throwing my whole life away for this.
I spend three hours in the gym. I have to go. I skip classes at law school. I keep skipping classes. Don't eat. Laxatives. Mirror, mirror, this dress, that dress, no that dress... out tonight, he's there and he's there, will get drunk, will flirt and flirt, will act like I'm the hottest girl in the room.

Will come home empty-hearted.


  1. I know that feeling of basing by identity on appearance and attention from guys. You drink, you laugh, you feel good. It's a high. But yes, it does lead to empty nights in the end. You have to believe that you are ok just being you. That you are worthy of attention and love just for being you and not what you look like or the guys you attract. It's so, so hard to find that place but I hope you can.

  2. I definately can relate. I hate feeling this way

  3. your right, it's not whats inside that counts.
    thats complete bullshit.

  4. Yep, as sad as that is, it seems to be true. "Inner beauty" is total shit. Nobody cares to meet you unless you're gorgeous. Then, compassion and happy can work. Before, you're a walking doormat.

  5. You're right. Beauty, health and confidence is more important than anything else. That will bring you true happiness.

    I know the feeling... when you start to see the fat melting away and hipbones, cheekbones, collarbones all coming through... It's such a rush. It just spurs you on. You know you're doing the right thing. It's working.

    You have to stay strong. You have to keep going. We can do this. We're already doing this. Don't give up.

    lots of love

    Holly x x x

  6. beautiful post! You so captured that feeling of everything just being cyclic and unending. It's such a scary thought when you're in it, but the thought of getting out of it is even more scary. I suppose it's a trade-off, we sell our souls and in return we get to experience a life of beauty and power. Then we die young. is there another option?


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