I woke up this morning in someone else’s body. I stood in the bathroom, looking at my naked body in the mirror. I am not a child anymore. No, I saw in front of me a woman’s body, a body I had never really noticed until now. She has full hips and womanly curves. Her shoulders are strong, her breasts round. Her thighs are muscular, her butt voluptuous. On her shoulder blade is a single rose, and the words she believes with all her heart. “Love lives forever”. She looked me in the eye with an intent stare, her makeup smudged from the night before. Her hair is messy and tangled, her face red on the left side from resting on a man’s chest until she woke up.
As I gazed into the mirror, she looked right through me. I don’t know who that woman is. My face looked odd on her body. Inside that woman is the scared little girl who desperately craved independence, but didn’t realize how emotionally difficult it would be.
She looks like she just wants to go home, back to when life was simple.
She looks afraid.
She looks lost.