One day, they told me, with the assurance of those passing down common sense to the unschooled, one day you will fall in love with a man and have his children. One day. I believed them.
One day, they told me, you will be able to walk in high heels without falling over. I saw my mothers feet, painted and gnarled, and I did not make the connection. I believed them.
One day, they tell me, you will be beautiful. You will grow up, fill out, diet, change your hair, change your face and then what? They do not tell me what happens next, beyond a fuzz of happiness and achievement. Do I reach the pinnacle of of my existence? Reach the point of critical hawtness and implode, leaving dazed men in my wake?
I no longer believe.