Dear Sofie

Dear Sofie,

Please let me start by saying that I have nothing at all against you,

My jealousy comes directly from me, my trauma and my past,

You are great and all you have you fully deserve.

My jealousy comes from a place of never having what you have,

From also thinking that I deserved what you have,

And, sadly, from realising now, at 41, that I was never actually meant to have what you now have.

Don't stop going where you're going because some of us are starved for that success

(May I live vicariously through you?)

But please don't ever become one of those women who look down on all the rest

(They have done enough damage to the rest of us)

Dear Sofie, please believe me,

As I'm crying as I write,

Once I thought I would be treated as you are,

I stated I'd become a model and an actress and I was laughed out of two counties.

I thought I'd take another chance here in Blighty,

And though there's laughter there's still no (real) chance.

If I did or said anything to make you think I didn't like you,

My apologies, as it's my sourness talking instead of me,

Because I gave up so much to try to be where you are and now there's neither this nor that.

I don't mean to sound or look upsetting towards you,

I just ache like like this because once I was stupid enough to believe I had a chance!

In my teens I really thought I was you, and the hatred I recieved instead drove me to think I was so not a woman I was actually a man,

In my twenties I got a drop of encouragement that I drank with gratitude as I was so parched, and both Mexico and Canada agreed I was not worthy of it all.

In my thirties I married into art and was given all support to take a chance, but no one took me up on what I had to give,

Now at 41 I can't keep up the pretence and all can do is cry.

I know your image will live forever in the hearts and minds that you have given yourself to,

You have been the best canvas for all the art,

The best model for all the styles,

The best muse, from what all say,

And rightly so!

- my pain does not change any of that -

My pain is only there because I was wrong and everyone who laughed was right.

Because strangers still laugh (even though friends call me beautiful)

Because strangers can sometimes only talk about how fat I am, instead of the beautiful comments they give the rest of you,

Because it's only been the last few years that my legs have got this fat, but the laughter has been there even when I was pretty much your size!

Because my belly might never look the same after the miscarriages I had, but I will always make people think of pregnancy and it hurts like hell and back,

Because my face will never be something that people want to photograph,

Because my boobs have given in to gravity before supposedly they should,

Because when I actually looked like you I was always told I was too fat,

Because no woman should ever have to hear or read (or see) the things some people say about my looks.

And when I refer to seeing, I mean the amount of artists that like painting me because I remind them that women don't always have to be beautiful or sexy (oh, gee, thanks!)

And I see them painting me like Paula Rego, which many have said I remind them of, and some create monsters when I pose for them, and not in the creative way.

So there you have it,

The sad story of my life,

Which I have been open about before,

But this had to be said because I feel a tension which should not there.

I don't want that tension, I just want to be you

- and I can't be, because you are you, and I wouldn't want to deprive the world of you! -

Or at least I want the sadness to go away and I don't know how to do that as I face the real deal.

And for anyone who's about to say, "There's more to a woman than looks", I say:

A woman can be whatever she wants to be, and find important anything.

Besides, I already know that and have been told that my wits and smarts are high in people's regards,

This is not about that, though, and I havr already written extensively about all that,

This is about a certain pain a bear, and just have to figure out myself.

Dear Sofie,

Thanks for reading, and I hope you understand.

In a world where I get beaten down for looking like you, then twenty years later (and some pesky pounds on my body as well) you get lifted up while I'm kept with my face to the floor and their boot on my bum, it's hard to feel okay.

I'm not okay, but not with you - with me, entirely with me -

I wish you all the success you deserve,

And hopefully you'll be the one who'll make a change and others will be lifted up as well.

I may not have ever had it, but I hope that others do as well as you!

In the meantime, I ask again,

May I live vicariously through you?

Sincerely,

Me

~*~

Thank you for reading. Full disclosure, there are some artists who genuinely see me as beautiful and try to lift me up, and no one who has referred to me as such is being called out here, but these are feelings which have been boiling up for a while and a recent event made everything boil over. Maybe I will delete when I'm mature enough to deal with it, but in the meantime this just had to be expressed. Hope it brings solace in any case, to me or any readers who feel the same x