A Girl Named Leney

THE JOURNAL

In The Wake

she told me that  was beautiful. 
a "different" beautiful.
"more" beautiful. 

over and over and over again.
and that she hated me for it.
in that sort of half-joking-but-not-really way that girls do sometimes so that they can get away with saying hurtful or deeply true things that they aren't brave enough to fully say. 

i'm not speaking of it now to brag about my beauty.
i know i am beautiful.
no i am not always secure and sure of that. but i have gotten to a place in my lif
e where my worth isn't defined by that piece of me and i also know that truth without needing another's validation of it.

and so it's not that i am uncomfortable being told that i am beautiful. 

it's that i am uncomfortable with other women degrading their beauty in the wake of my own.