 |
| Claudette Esterine |
"Good of the morning to you, Putus," says one person.
"Good morning beautiful," says the other with a kissing emoticon.
The third is more recent and from someone new to my life; as well as to openly displaying emotions, "Hi!"
A warm fuzzy feeling creeps up from my toes to my heart as these message come in. For most of my life, hearing that I am beautiful was a very rare occurrence. In all fairness to him, it was my estranged husband who was the first to constantly say those words.
It really is ironic that it took "so long" to hear those words, over 35 years. According to her story, although officially she named me Claudette, my mother's nickname for me was "Cutie."
I never felt cute.
Not with the beatings and other names that she plastered on me as her economic situation spiraled. The names were just as bad as the ones she labelled my absent "good for nothing" father.
Little wonder that very often when people called me "Cutie," they might just as well have said "Dirty," "Useless," "Would-Turn-Out-To-Nothing" or even "Whore." That is what I heard.
They say 'name it and claim it' and an angel must have guided me away from the label "whore," which was my mother's favourite for me. No, I was not a wild teenager but my mother was a conflicted, contradictory woman. In the same breath that she was calling me "Cutie," she was beating the crap out of me and proclaiming my future as a Madam. Yes, she knew I had brains so I would not settle for being a streetwalker but would run the joint.
Maybe I was not beautiful?
Slim or even skinny was never my body type. By the time I turned 16, my body was fully developed and curves were accentuating all the "right" places. Only in my 40's did I began sporting blonde hair but it was not on the stereotypical head that goes with that colour. My hair was either sheared off or in dreadlocks (as it is now).
I am not a big fan of being out in the sun, so my caramel skin has always been only slightly darker than it is now. My lips are very much representative of a person of African-descent and my mouth and somewhat crooked teeth were shaped by my thumbsucking well into late life.
That, my everlasting sucking of my thumb, was what spoiled my beauty. Well that is what my mother said. It seemed to me back then that my Father's siblings agreed on at least that with her as the one and only time I stayed at the "Esterine" house, I was constantly being threatened with having my thumb stuck in the dog's butt! I kid you not!
Ironically, it took being out of my homeland and among strangers, particularly Caucasian ones, for me to start hearing that I was really "Cute" or beautiful. The years spent in Europe opened my eyes to my own physical beauty. My decade plus residency in Canada has seen me fully blossom into it.
It took an opening up to Life for me to know that I am beauty-filled and that my physical features have nothing to do with it.
"Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting." Ralph Waldo Emerson
Buck teeth, thick lips, nappy hair, stretch marks and all, I never miss an opportunity to look in any mirror to see the beauty that is pouring from me.
Yes, beauty like happy is an inside job; and they are also best friends!
Go now, look in the mirror and tell that beauty-filled person smiling at you how gorgeous they are!
Have a radiant day!
Visit our Facebook page and follow us on Twitter.
Claudette Esterine is the Founder of DOS Foundation, Editor of our blog, a trained Chaplain, spiritual counsellor, communications professional and Nature's Pearl Independent Distributor. In her spare time she manages the call center of an Edmonton-based not-for-profit organization
No comments:
Post a Comment