I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind
Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I’m deflated
Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I’m devastated
When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?
Photo courtesy of anitamurphyart.com
You hide in the shadows, and the darkness is your protection. You have built defenses for the unknown. On rare instances that the light reaches you, I catch a glimpse of your beauty. Do you see it, too? But you are afraid to look at your reflection. I have asked you this a thousand times but you quickly avert your gaze.
I saw you again today and I see your bruises. Dark colors smudge your skin screaming the pain in your spirit. I feel the shame for the injustice of your pain. Why do you let it so? Why don’t you fight back? Again, you cast your eyes to the floor and embrace your silence. The bruises are a quiet testament of your acceptance.
Your smile never reaches your eyes. What is the truth behind it? What is the color of your solace? Do you mourn the sunrise and eagerly wait for dusk? I want to climb your wall but I’m afraid to fall.
I saw you again today. You were holding his hands as you were walking down the stairs. Does he hold the key to the mystery? Does he make you happy? You gave me a nod and a little smile. You remind me of a little girl on the train waving at strangers.
I didn’t see you for a while since then. I thought you had moved. Maybe you went away with him. Or maybe you locked yourself in your room grieving the silence of the phone. Did he forget your birthday or was it anniversary? You wanted to paint your bedroom red but you are waiting for his approval. So now it’s still the lifeless gray that matches your gloom.
I see you again in the hallway and you’re covered in bruises. Do you even see them? Are you aware of your pain? Am I the only one who can see them? I finally had the guts to tell you what I should have the first time I saw the marks. He is not your savior. You are beautiful. Stop hurting yourself. You stared at me a long time and I saw a twinkle in your eyes. Did I just imagine it? You smiled and walked away.
I headed to my room and when I walked in, I pulled the blinds up, unhooked the phone and started painting the walls. Red is for passion and courage. Once done, I looked at the mirror and saw that the bruises are gone.
I was browsing through my undergrad written* thesis when I came across this on the RRL**. I just thought this is worth sharing. Mumo is a colloquial Tagalog word for monster.
As cited on the book, Theories of Personality, Maslow said that “most of us get caught at this level(need for belongingness and love) and strive more or less constantly to be accepted and loved by other people” (Feist 380).
Jess Feist expounds, based on the Self-Actualization Theory, how an individual behaves when their need for love is unfulfilled:
“[Other] adults whose love needs remain largely unsatisfied, adopt a more obvious method of trying to love. They undermine their own needs by striving too hard to obtain affection. Their constant supplication for acceptance and affection leave others suspicious, unfriendly, and impenetrable (380).
The fulfillment of the need for belongingness determines one’s self esteem. As Feist puts it, “it appears to be nearly impossible to secure self-esteem unless a person first perceives
that she has gained approval in the eyes of others” (380).
*As a film student, I was required a written thesis as well as a short film as requirements for the undergrad course.
** Review of Related Literature