Dear Red Trench/High Heels/Big Purse,
I don't know you. We pass each other on the street or sit across from each other on the bus. You are a stranger to me in everything but appearance, yet, somehow, I deem that superficial impression enough for me to make a judgment on you.
Somedays I think I am better than you but most of the time I rank you as far superior to me. Sadly, this almost directly correlates to what I am wearing, if I did my hair or what I have had to eat that day. For some inexplicable reason I have handed over my power of self-judgment to you, a stranger I glance at in passing, basing incredible amounts of self-worth and achievement on an individual whose name I don't even know. But your strength is not a threat to my own; your power, capability and beauty do not detract from my own arsenal of value. In fact, it has nothing to do with me.
I am unaware of what struggles you face, what talents your possess or what obstacles you have overcome. I don't even know where you're going. Yet, somehow I allow the split- second perusal of your physical being to dictate, not only my opinion of you, but of myself as well. I have given you far too much responsibility, burdening you with my own personal insecurities and turning an individual who would much better serve me as an ally into an enemy.
Maybe part of me resents you because I am far more willing to view and treat you with respect than I am myself. I wouldn't dare to say half of the degrading or judgmental things to you that I berate myself with because I acknowledge it would be wrong to treat another human being with that severity or rudeness. Is it that difficult to treat my brain and body, the only sources of capability and individuality over which I have complete autonomy, with the same courtesy I give complete strangers, most of whom I will never speak to or see ever again?
So, to the girl I sat next to in Starbucks or made eye contact with at the grocery store: I am sorry. To my best girlfriends, complete strangers and classroom acquaintances: I apologize. To any woman I come into contact with, be it in casual passing or extended friendship: I will try harder.
When we look in the mirror we see different faces, but both reflections have been shaped and conditioned by the same pervasive cultural, social and commercial influences. It is only by breaking eye contact with the image of myself distorted by self-doubts, one that makes you the lens through which I view myself, and refocusing my vision on a version for myself that is intimate and independent that I will truly see myself.
Sincerely,
Black Raincoat/Shiny Boots/Little Purse
