#35 - You're Beautiful

Today’s words: Tiny, Atriplex, Belief, Convince

Word count: 913

Completion time: 2 hours 27 mins

Summary: Children are very easily influenced by the media, so make sure to look after them

~

 You trick yourself into thinking that it will never happen to your child.

It was quarter past one in the afternoon and the sun was evidently trying its hardest to squeeze out as much heat as it could before it exploded. 

You think about your Atriplex plant drying out, so you open the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink and fetch the metal watering can, filling it with water. Turning the tap off, you open the patio door that leads to the back garden and step out, squinting your eyes and holding the watering can to your forehead. You barely have the energy to walk more than a few steps without wanting to sit down, but the plants won’t water themselves. 

As you advance closer to the desired plant, you catch sight of two tiny feet, toes down, sticking out of the row of bushes at the end of the garden.

You assume that your six-year-old daughter is in her room, so for a couple of seconds you don’t react until your brain gives you a sharp nudge.

The watering can falls onto the grass with a dull thud that sounds far away, and you run, sweaty and breathless toward the feet that you helped create. The bush scratches your face and arms but you can’t feel anything because all of your attention is on her.

Soon you’re in the living-room, your pride and joy’s body is on the two-seater sofa looking smaller than ever, like the sofa could swallow her whole. After putting a hand under her nose, two fingers on the side of her neck, and an ear to her chest, you ascertain that she’s still alive. 

You can breathe again.

Her eyes flicker, causing your hand to rush to the cup of water that you poured as soon as you made it inside. 

“Have some water, honey,” you say whilst the corners of your mouth tighten. 

Holding the straw to her lips with her tongue, she drinks slowly, eyes closed. 

Your mind fills itself with questions that you’re eager to voice: What were you doing out there? Weren’t you upstairs? Where are your shoes? Are you okay? What’s going on? Are you hurt? Should I call the Doctor? Can you talk? You settle on an all-inclusive: “What happened?”

She lets the straw fall from her mouth and looks at you: “Am I beautiful?”

“Of course you are.” The reply is blurted out before you have a chance to think, but she really is. Her frizzy black curls, cute little voice, sense of humour...everything that you saw in her was exceptional. “But what happened?” you ask again. “Out there, I mean. Why were you in the bushes? Does it hurt?”

She shook her head and sat up slowly with your help. “I didn’t feel like eating, so I think I got too dizzy.”

“What?”

“I don’t like food, it makes you fat.”

You tried to think of a time when you had been as shocked.  When you looked to your side in the shopping centre to find her gone? When she locked herself in the washing machine? When your partner announced that they had been sleeping with your cousin?

Your hands rest themselves on her shoulders and as they do, you realise that they’re bonier than usual. “Who...who told you that?”

“I just know,” she looks back with a determined expression. “The more you eat, the fatter you get...and if you’re fat,” her voice became high-pitched upon saying the word ‘fat’, “then you’re ugly.”

Okay, now you’ve never been this shocked. “And who told you that?”

“People at school, AND people on TV. They only like the thin, pretty girls.”

You hold her hand in yours, stroking them with your thumb. “You want people to like you, right?”

She stares at you before biting her bottom lip and nodding.

“Then keep doing what you’re doing: be a nice, respectful, friendly little girl and people will love you, just like I do. If people ever try to convince you that you need to look like the people on TV to be likeable, tell them to stick it.”

Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that mean?”

“It means ignore them, walk away.”

“Okay...” She insincerely agrees.

“You know that drawing you did for mummy that some of your friends said looked weird?”

She nodded reluctantly.

“I think it’s amazing. I look at it every day and I’m really happy that it exists, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because my little girl made it just for me. You could draw me something on toilet paper and I’d frame it, you know?”

Her smile lit the place up. “No you wouldn’t, that’s silly.”

“Nope. What’s silly is to think that people will like you less for how you look...and if they do, they’re silly and you shouldn’t hang out with them; that’s my belief. What makes someone beautiful on the outside?”

“A thin nose, long blonde hair, no tummy...”

“I don’t like thin noses, I love your short frizzy curls, and if someone has a big tummy, I like that too.”

“You’re lying.”

You look at her and raise your eyebrows. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

This appears to satisfy her.

“Not everyone will agree on what looks nice, so you should look however you want to look. If you make your friends laugh, cheer them up, and stand by them...they’re really not going to care what you look like, I promise.”

“...Mummy?”

“Yes, lovely?”

“You’re beautiful.”