In the capital of England, under the spotlight of Covent Garden, lies a beauty salon.
A pretty wannabes rendez-vous and spread glamour over two floors.
Chic petites on high heels compete,
with the tall who wish they were small.
The grandmas adding more mascara,
iron boards filling in their bra.
Some have large tops to forget their shapes,
and the proud, jeans stretched over their tight bottoms,
show off their god sent prizes.
“Welcome to Fiona’s beauty salon!”
The groupies recognize Fiona’s steps,
she walks in her Louboutins with elegance and confidence.
A firework; she carries herself like a bouquet,
each step she takes sounds like a symphony,
getting louder as it aims at you.
Fiona sparks and the hearts vibrate.
28 years old, Fiona likes to greet and to spend her days looking great.
She loves to see turning heads, wherever she heads.
She feeds herself off the attention she gets.
On Sundays, Fiona breaks away from her beauty salon to travel in her head.
Protected from the outside, seeking her own approval.
She wakes up late, eats chocolate.
She wears glasses, bare faced,
No contact lenses, she looks inwards.
Fiona hears voices in the back of her head,
as she’s heading to the toilet on her lunchbreak.
Every Monday to Friday on the playground,
a broken record plays in the background,
at school she keeps her head down.
At 10 Fiona is already tall and she is blond with blue eyes.
Like her mother she wears glasses,
like her father she is nearly blind,
and through her glasses, her eyes,
looks like the biggest of their kind,
to the innocent little demons who bully.
Since Fiona grew up to be a beauty,
some of the bullies changed their minds.
She still has recorded memories;
the scenes that she sees, obscene,
she sweats in her nightmares.
A muse afraid, walking down the lane of shame,
Fiona was trying to make invisible steps,
towards name calling and hair pulling,
by a new generation of ignorance blooming,
who stared, mocking Fiona’s differences in sight.
In the back of her mind, Fiona has classified the files that she re-open when she needs motivation. The traumatic childhood flashes have become her source of inspiration.
She has built her self esteem and a beauty salon by turning her weakness into a strength.
Fiona didn’t grab the self pity option that she was destined for,
she opted for a graduation in the development of self love.
She prefered a pair of designer sunglasses and minor eye surgery,
now she looks around and sees clearly.
Through all the make-up and plastic smiles,
lots of Fionas are seeking a quick fix for their latest imperfection.
To these women who are constantly judged, Fiona is proof that mother nature can be kind even with a bad seed. For Fiona, these women are proof that even if she started as a bad seed she is destined to be kind.
