Tag Archives: innerbeauty

The Salutation

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Watching it all happen wasn’t a surprise, but it was painful, knowing what I knew.
She sat at her desk quietly working, he walked in and started toward her desk. She looked up slowly, caught his eye, and quickly said ‘hi’. He looked her way, responded in the same and continued on past her walking toward his desk.  The constant talking, friendship, texting words, hopes, dreams over the previous six months all hewn down into two small words.
It crushed her, and he was eternally angry, but none of that mattered anymore and they both continued on with their lives as if the other was never a part nor were they ever.
Morgan Werhen Copyright 2018
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In Pieces

I remember being a whole. I was proper and genuine a real joy to be with.
My face was mostly smiling, or working toward a smile.
My hands flitted and fluttered about working ahead of my conversations including all the light words escaping with light wisps of delight.
I remember being a whole woman. I was alabaster and red mixed with blush. My dresses swished and my tops flowed. I wondered about as I flowed down the street. The pedigree of my me which populated my personality and it exuded around me without the need to say a thing.
I remember loving who I was.

elitedaily_girl_crying_in_bed_6-13-2018I remember loving the thought of love and knowing what that would feel like.

I remember being a whole.
I remember meeting you.
You relished me mostly but desired some change.
Too much color but not enough thread to make your version of my art.
Let’s not do this, but start changing that.
The parts of me you liked but tweaked and over time some over bending
caused parts of me to break.
I remember together, and starting to question if I was enough.
I remember being. I remember our us. I remember feeling, but realizing that your feelings weren’t the same.
I remember trying to fix me so your picture was right.
I remember  wondering why I needed to fix me when we were together.  The list of my wrongs was growing, as I tried harder to keep up with your demands. You seemed perfect, or so you thought. Your answers required my changes.
I remember bending, I remember breaking.
The requests and frustrations seemed to build, the weight continued to hold me down.
The pieces of me slowly faded from color to slate, possibly gray, but largely not recognizable as to what was there before.
The smiles and laughter seemed like faded memories, flowers closed petals fallen.
The swagger and smiles removed. Slow steps, muddy tracks, slodden, downtrodden a personality once floating, now unable to find a place to land.
The person I was replaced by me now.
I remember that I stopped remembering.
This morning I turned over and reached out to you in our bed, the stable piece of our land where silence ruled and where I remembered who we were, or what I wished we were to be when we were new.
I remember you not being there.
I remember being something, but nothing was left to make peace with, there was no ‘me’ anymore.
I couldn’t remember, I didn’t know. The piece left wasn’t me at all.
Image Credit: elitedaily.com
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Morgan Werhen
Copyright 2018

 

He Freed Me From the Constraints of my Heart

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He freed me from the constraints of my heart.
He took me from the isolation of my soul.
He removed me from the closet of my past.
He carried me from the danger of my youth.
He loved me with the fire of my emotions.
He needed me with the lust of my desire
He adored me with love of my mother.
He protected me with the strength of my father.
He left me with the hole from my adolescence.
He wounded me with weapon of loneliness.
He was taken from me with the speed of life.
I’m broken without him.
I’m desperate for him
I’m walking away from him.
“As the Lord Giveth, He also taketh away”
I left the cemetery with a heavy heart and a demolished soul.
Image Credit: theweddingscoop.com

The Road Less Taken?

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I didn’t ask for this.  This life.  I just thought I’d get up everyday and be normal, that I’d fit in.
I noticed a change in early middle school, not much, but mostly from the men, I’d get called on for questions, or I’d get noticed first when I lifted my hand to answer a question.
I never had trouble with grades, but I found that the grades started to find me quicker even though I wasn’t needing to work so hard for them.
I’ve never had the perfect responses to questions, I’ve never been on the ‘A’ list for whose the smartest in the class, but I’m certainly not dumb. I’m not someone to be trifled with in an argument. “Frankie will fight to the death” my best friend Sophie once said.
However, it seems over time that certain people started responded differently to some of my answers, but take other answers not as seriously.  “That theorem wasn’t your strongest Frankie”, or “historically speaking, I think Dan had a stronger argument about the chemicals involved.” “Yes, that paper showed how witty Mr. Darcy actually was!”
I liked it before honestly. I liked knowing that what I was or how I looked was never a part of the picture.
It’s not that way anymore. It may not be that way for a number of years or never?
I’m not complaining, I’m extremely happy with my life, but where I used to just prove myself, I now never will.  The assumption is now always the same.
I over heard a conversation I was never supposed to be privy too. I’m shocked by the statements, only for the fact that they were so bare, so truthful, and yet while I stood there, listening I realized my ’situation’ was much farther along than I had previously anticipated.  “She’s smart I think?” the teacher was saying. “Though, sometimes I have to first realize that she actually has the right answer before waving off what she is saying.” “It’s like my eyes can’t come to agreement with what my ears are hearing, and with no deal, my mind is left with confusion.”
I cried that day, and that night, not out of pity for me, but that my reality was altered as well.  I realized that evening that I was at a crossroads.
I had a decision to make, and although some would ‘say’ I was able to take both, it really only boils down to humanity and the decisions we decide to make while living amongst them.
Words are cheap, everyone, especially women in the educated sphere, will happily tell me not to fall in line with what my body is making an argument for.  You are a woman, hear yourself roar! Ignore the makeup, ignore the clothes, ignore the looks, and live your life.
I could have done that.
I went down the road of beauty, and love. Academics are still a part of my life sure, and I’ve done just fine in my High school and College years, but I certainly didn’t do them while trying to be a plain non feminine version of myself.
I happily embraced my womanhood and enjoyed my femininity!  I love my beauty, I have deep friendships with my girlfriends, and yes, I still was the Prom Queen.
Had I took the path of ‘smarts only’ I may have made something of myself, or possibly be the owner of a special skillset that no one cares to hear about.  However, I still have multiple special skillsets and love who I am, I know who I want to be and I happily acknowledge that neither of those decisions are in line with the popular culture’s desire to ‘fix’ my problem.
Last night, while prepping for my date, I caught myself in the mirror for a few seconds. It takes a while to ‘get ready’, but  I couldn’t be happier with that person in the mirror, I love her, and she is loved by many others.

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Why So Harsh, Why ( most ) Men Suck

Waking up in the morning can be a bitter pill.  Some days I wake up and look forward to the happiness of the day, but today everything sucks.

I hate that my hair seems to default to frizzy and broken.

I hate that my stomach has more fat this year than last year.

I hate that my ears are too big.

I hate that my face seems to break out when I’m stressed, or sad, or too hot.

I hate that I live alone.

I hate that my friends keep finding their ‘soulmate’.

I hate that all the clothes in my closet are horrible and I have nothing to wear!!!

I hate that I don’t have a boyfriend.

I hate that a number of months ago I thought I had a boyfriend but he wasn’t interested in the long term. Or was he just not interested? Or was I not interesting? Was I not pretty enough? Was I not funny enough? Do my knees look funny? Was I too prudish? WHAT WAS IT?

I hate that though I wasn’t in love, (yet?)

pinterest_girl_crying_black_whiteThat there were real possibilities. Or was it that there never was a possibility, and looking back why was I thinking there was?

I hate that I believe in marriage, but none of the boys ( yes boys ) have any reason to marry because all of us ‘normal’ girls are so desperate to find someone ( anyone ) that we end up doing and giving up our values and beliefs just to have someone near us.

 

 

I hate that this morning I have to get up, preen myself ( boys call them the 3 s’s ) do my hair, paint my nails, wear something presentable just so I get noticed.

BUT WAIT! WAIT YOU SAY! You don’t have to do that!!!!

I KNOW! I answer back.  I so so know.  Buuuuuuuut if I don’t, if I fall out of bed, leave my jammies on and plod around the house in my slippers, if I leave that broken nail broken, don’t hide my ugly toenails, wear the ugly closed foot sandals, or worse, wear the cute open toed strappy sandals, with the sloppy shorts and old t shirt, I find that the boys I attract are worse than the ones I was dating in the first place.

 

WHAT DO I DO????

I’m not horrible looking, but I’m not perfect.  I look at all the insta posts about blah blah get a new body blah blah. You’ll be happier blah blah blah!!! I even post on instagram ( shameless plug instagram.com/morganwerhen ) mostly with beautiful pictures, largely with happy women and/or brides. I find that men pictures are mostly too hulky or ‘look at me I’m Goliath and I can eat 5 steaks a day!’, or they’re so into themselves that I can’t possibly relate or want to relate. I DON’T NEED A GOLIATH, I JUST NEED SOMEONE.

 

I used to be pretty confident in myself, I was dating frequently, but as I turn the corner into my 30s I’m finding that I just want a man who loves me for who I am. Who will hold me when I’m sad, laugh with me, and largely someone I can get along with.  Is that so much to ask?

WHERE ARE YOU MAN????

Currently I don’t believe that man exists.  If he does or if I think I meet him, he definitely wants inside my panties, and he isn’t interested in commitment. Or he is interested in commitment but first lets get into my panties and then we can talk about the holding. I’m not sure if it’s me or society or it’s just that I’m not worth the time?

Last night I cried about it. This morning I’m plodding around my apartment in an old t-shirt.

Tonight I’ll preen and hang out with girlfriends and hopefully I’ll feel better.

~Morgan

Image Credit: Pinterest

Behind the Curtain

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I’ve spent my short life getting to this point.  I stand here behind the curtain.  The silken sparkly trap hiding me from the masses.
My body is toned and healthied to within an inch of starvation. I’m emotionally voided. My smile is plastered as naturally as the sun shines on the masses.  Perfectly manicured nails jut out from flawless fingers to slide my hand slightly from side to side. My legs stand smoother than the bottom of any baby. Exfoliated, professionally managed every day.  My bikini shows flawless smooth hairless almost pubescent, it is pearlescent.  My auburn mane is staggeringly beautiful each curl pulled every evening, hairnet slept regardless the day, incredible body like oiled springs bobbing with my every movement.  The dress I have on today costs more than the salaries of the people sitting in the first two rows. The beaded silk bodice flows with my body almost as if it was grown for me. The skirt, set above the knees holds slightly billowed with light crinoline tapering from my waist.  My breasts heave with my breath, shorter as I wait, they now hold themselves plump and alert after this years’ surgery.
I am the embodiment of perfection. I exult beauty. I am what they all want to see, to touch, to imagine. I’m the reason for the affairs, anger, and sadness in their lives. They all want to be what they see in me.
I am the exact representation of female perfection.
The stage was clear, the audience waited in anticipation for the next show. They had paid dearly for their tickets. The demand had been so great that the show sold out before most even had a chance to order.  There was no band playing, soft, excited mutterings were the only noises in the vast theater holding many thousands of spectators.  The show would start on time promptly at 21:00 hours.  At exactly 20:58:23 seconds the curtain started to spread open. It moved slowly both because it was part of the show and to keep the expectations high. The silent motors whirred against the wind as the silk curtains slid across the marble floor of the stage. At 20:59:32 the audience slowly started to gasp as they were able to get a look at the very specimen they were here to see.  There was only silence at 21:00 when the AD009.4 strode forward from its holding position.  Though, to all in the audience they knew the machine only as Eve.

Why Do We All Want to Be Beautiful?

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The trouble with beauty, we all want it, desire it, it envelops us like a breeze splashing our hair around us.
The need never goes away, the desire never fades.
To feel beautiful is the true beauty, just me as I am. When we achieve that belief then no matter what we do or wear, everyone else desires the beauty we’ve so easily and effortlessly found for ourselves.
How do you achieve your inner beauty?
Image Credit: vi-vi.com

Standing Here Waiting Only for You

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I walk down the aisle today, toward you and I forever. All the memories, experiences, laughter and crying

all end and begin today.
The me you see today is the first day of the rest of our lives.
I’m standing here in front of you wearing white.
Cherish this version of me, love me, make me your princess. I’m standing here waiting only for you.

I do. ~Morgan Werhen