I am sure I look better without the makeup I wear, because surely god does not make mistakes.
Yes, the extra highlight won’t miraculously transform into a winding road that guides me. Yes, the thick wing at the edge of my eye won’t be the shield that protects me from my fears. Yes, my perfectly applied mascara will falter at the first sight of an oncoming mental breakdown. I also never claimed that any of those things are or should be anything besides makeup, although it is safe to say that, on more than one occasion, it truly felt as though the only thing that was going to get me through the day was a bold wing and a red lip that screamed “I am a boss ass bitch, and I will make it”.
Does that make me shallow? Superficial?
That concealer under my eyes helped mask the coffee induced all-nighters I spent re-writing essays and struggling to understand why the asymptote never touches the slope. The eyebrow pencil replaced the hairs I lost to stress over university applications. The blush brought back color to my lifeless face after facing a rejection. That highlight brought back some light into my life, after losing a loved one. So yes, I never claimed that makeup holds some magical ability to fix all wrongs, but it sure does a hell of a job doing so. Those extra fifteen minutes I spend on myself in the morning are powerful. I’m sorry if my makeup makes me fake, I’m sorry if it makes you think less of me, I’m sorry I couldn’t cope by drowning my sorrows, I’m sorry YOU couldn’t cope with a multifaceted woman such as I.
I’m sorry my presence intimidates you,
I’m sorry my height makes you feel less of a man,
I’m sorry my intellect scares you off,
I’m sorry my red lips speak louder than the purr of your car,
I’m sorry my low cut tees offend you,
I’m sorry my high heels make your knees weak,
I’m sorry my long hair gets tangled In your web of lies,
I’m sorry my stretch marks make you look away,
I’m sorry on behalf of my period, clearly the timing was an inconvenience,
I’m sorry I wasn’t predictable enough for your liking,
I’m sorry my morals make me intense,
But I’m not sorry for this:
I’m not sorry for demanding attention,
I’m not sorry for standing tall and proud,
I’m not sorry for my depth, my thirst for knowledge,
I’m not sorry for my bold opinions,
I won’t apologize on behalf of the click of my heel,
I’m not sorry for ignoring the validation you thought you gave me as you fed on my insecurities,
I’m not sorry for the body my god gave me,
I’m not sorry for my body’s ability to give life, although some chocolate should suffice,
I’m not sorry for leading the strides I take,
I sure as hell won’t apologize for the ethics that guide me.