beautiful...

I watched her and was intrigued. She was awkward and shy. Her femininity hid behind a schlumpy walk, masculine clothes, and a longer boyish haircut. When she sat she did so with her legs either spread out in front of her or one flung across the other lazily, ankle to knee, the way a man would sit. Her delicate features were masked by the oversized glasses that she wore and her face was naked and clean; her complexion, pale and flawless. High cheekbones. Perfectly arched eyebrows. Full lips. A cute nose. She wasn't, by any means, ugly, even by society's standards.

I continued non-chalantly watching her as she ate, mouth open, chewing wildly. She sat hunched over, close to her plate so her hands didn't have far to travel from plate to mouth. Her arms were long and seemed to get in her own way as she maneuvered them through lunch. It seemed that she hadn't quite grown into herself really. She wasn't aware of her body and the way it moved. She hadn't yet accepted its grace.

Her fingernails were dirty and chewed off the night before as she sat alone in her apartment again with the tv set her only company. Her eyes fixed on what lay before her, only glancing to the left or right when someone passed too closely. All her walls were up. I had the distinct feeling that she hated eating in public where people could look at her and watch her, come too close and see that she wasn't proper and lady-like and then judge her for lacking the femininity and grace that seemed to come so effortlessly for other women.

She finished eating and then did something remarkably simple, something that most women do upon completion of a meal, but something that was also moving to me. She removed a small, but delicate, silver compact from her pocket. She carefully checked her face and her teeth for telltale signs of the meal she'd just eaten. She brought a napkin to her lips and wiped gently, ran a finger over her eyebrows smoothing them out, and applied a quick coat of soft pink lipgloss to her lips. Satisfied with what she saw she closed the compact and slid it in her pocket, glanced around, got up, and left. All of this was done in graceful, fluid-like motions. Long and elegant limbs.

She may have hated eating in public but that just meant that once she finished she could relax and be the self that she usually was. And I quickly forgot my previous notion that she wasn't yet aware of her body, not fully grown into it, and that she hadn't yet accepted its grace. In that moment as I sat watching her watching herself in her compact she was nothing but grace. In that moment, she let the world in even if it was just a little bit. She let them see that she was proud of how she looked. In that moment, even in all her tomboyishness, she was beautiful. And I think she knew it full well.

I was eating lunch today and saw a girl who inspired this post.