Reflection

I am the master of dressing room photoshoots.The queen of Macy mirror pics,The goddess of target twitter selfies I have a changing room ritual, outfit on, snapchat up. I mean, the lighting is always bomb,And I just scored myself a free outfit for the followers, But I noticed a break in the tradition….  Winter time snapshots displayed confidence like its was natural.But summertime ones didn't exist… I never broke out my phone while trying on Summer clothes. But I had endless pictures of myself wearing sweaters 3 times my size,People would praise me, tell me “over sized clothing is in style”but they were unaware that I wasn't wearing them for the fashion.  It's easy to flaunt “fad’s”, when they make you feel safe. It's hard to rock them when they showcase your  flaws like its facile.  I could barely stand the sight of my skin exposed in shorts.No matter how many times i tried to photograph myself confidently,The pictures always seemed to turn out negative.There were never any positives to work withThe only thing i modeled in that mirror was insecurities I tried changing the angle, Hoped one would be more flattering than the other,Hoped cellulite would escape the photo if I held the camera sidewaysOr my waist would look smaller at a higher point,I prayed, the outfit wouldn't look as bad from the back,Things usually look better when you don't face them head on.  There was a new ritual,As the minutes grew longer, the pile of clothes on the floor grew with it.I always hoped, to leave the store with something else besides self deprecation I couldn't be photogenic, if I'm apologetic in my own body.And I couldn't truthfully love myself in a mirror that never liesSummer shopping dressing rooms, knew how bring back memories like photos do…. Like snapshots of society , ruining body positivity for me before I even knew what it meant to be positive about my bodyfor each name they called me, I envision a different angle in that mirror,A new photo to hang on the dressing room walls.  A snapshot, for the guy told me I'll never be wantedA snapshot, the girl who called me uglyA snapshot, for the bullies who deemed me thunder thighs, because they weren't used to things bigger than their egosA snapshot for the taunting  For destroying my confidence,But telling me no one likes a girl without itFor the “ugly”“Four eyes”“Beaver”“Fat”“Weirdo” After you've been called so many namesYou tend to forget you have one You tend to become what they depict you as,Begin to snug fit their photos... But I’m done modeling for someone else’s pictures…Im learning to feel confident in my own now.How to be my own photographer,Summer and winter time fine, How to stare proudly into a dressing room mirror.Check myself out in an itsy bitsy bikini, And, Take a pic for snapFor the gram, For twitter, Might as well set it as my wallpaper. My body may not fit your “photo standards”But that doesn't make me any less of a model I'm a supermodel in the making if you ask me.  My mirror selfies are masterpieces. My hips, fill our shorts perfectly like a water painted sky's fill empty backgrounds,My curves, show right through my tank tops,like sun’s peek out from lifeless clouds When they tried to put me down, I put myself down with thembut I'm learning how to let the beauty of my body pick me up.  They say photos are worth a thousand words,But my body says a thousand and one,And my camera roll is filled with a thousand and twoAnd my confidence level is on a thousand and three I’ll watch my snapchat story and do double takesLike my own pictures on Instagram,Retweet my own selfies,Whether I'm wearing sweaters,Dresses,Shorts,Tank tops,There will be no more feeling modest,Just all model.    

This poem is about: 
Me

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