WRITING PROMPT NO. 135
Lorna pulled the swimsuit up her body lifting the tight fabric over her breasts.
She stretched at the straps enough she could push her arms through each hole. Her fingers hooked the bottom of the suit over the curves of her buttocks. She wiggled from side to side, pulling a little more at the suit, adjusting and re-adjusting. The harsh light of the fitting room cast down around her giving her skin a cadaverous look.
The shape of the swimsuit was good but it was hard not to find fault with every aspect of her face and body as she stood looking at her reflection. She closed her eyes. She tried to imagine herself sitting on the beach, large hat shading her eyes which were in turn shaded by large sunglasses, cocktail in hand, some floaty beach cover-up slipping off one shoulder.
She shook her head and opened her eyes. She began to tear off the swimsuit catching the skin on her arms with her fingernails. Reality was catching up with her and slamming her against the wall.
Who the hell did she think she is? No svelte 20 year old that was clear.
Everyone is beautiful. Strength and good health is vital.
No. Take it off. You look terrible. You’re too old to be beautiful. You look like shit.
Stop telling yourself that. You know it’s wrong. You’re being horrible to yourself. Worse than the worst of friends.
Lorna fumbled in her bag for her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found her. Milly.
Feeling brave? Want to share your story? In the words of one Disney princess, Let it go, in the comments below.