Beyond the Mask You See

I am a bold 21st century woman. I look in the mirror and I see strength and confidence and beauty in every line, every curve, every inch of my body. I know my worth, my power. I am comfortable in my sexuality and in my body. A fierce leopard aware and ready. I don’t sit back and let things happen, I take charge. I see what I want and I go for it - I make the first move. Not your timid hellos or empty flattery - a challenge. Come talk with me, I said. Let’s see if our weird matches, I teased. Challenge accepted! Bold, confident I show you me. I tell you what I want and you deliver. When I think about you, as I run my fingers over the memories of our last night together, a smile plays at my lips at the thought of your hands on my body. Your teeth. Your fingers. Sigh... the decadent silky feel of the blanket we cuddle under after. Seeing you fills me with happiness and pleasure. But still, I wonder. I wonder if you can see beneath the surface yet and what will happe...

“You are so beautiful” he whispered in my ear as he slid his fingers into my swimsuit and into my vagina. As he squeezed my chest where breasts had not even thought of forming on my 10 year old body yet. As he shoved himself inside me until he had satisfied himself. When he assured me through my tears that it was normal. He said beautiful girls, good girls don’t tell when they’ve had sex.  I was a beautiful, good girl - wasn’t I? But I did say something. I was 10 the first time anyone asked me what I was wearing. When I was told not to flaunt myself if I didn’t want men to take advantage. That it was my fault. That it was shameful for me to have enticed the attack with my prepubescent body. That I was ugly and that everyone would know I’d been touched. —— “You are so beautiful” he said as he clumsily fondled my newly developed breasts. I was 13 and grown up. he told me he loved me and I believed him. I believed him when he said I was pretty.  It was quick a...