I hate my body, she said, 

And my heart sank

Because clearly she didn’t think I did a good job creating her 

She began to pull chunks of flesh that I had so intricately formed 

She pointed at spots that I had used to punctuate her perfect skin 

 

I hate my body, he said 

As he used his skin as a canvass for artwork 

Soon enough it was hard to tell his skin tone 

As all I could see were tattoos carved on the skin I had taken so much time to form 

 

I hate my body she said 

As she cut herself up 

Absorbing all the drugs she could 

Just to take her mind off her hurt and insecurities 

 

I hate how I look! He yelled 

Abusing substance more than one could imagine 

Getting so high 

Surely he was about to fall 

 

Why did you make me? 

She sobbed while standing on the bridge 

Ready to disappear in the waters 

At least one less ugly duckling 

Would make the world a better place 

Or so she thought 

 

It grieved me that they couldn’t see 

What I saw 

So short-sighted, 

They needed glasses to see 

How I made their skins  

So unique,  

The sun couldn’t scar it 

The cold winter couldn’t mar it 

 

Who told you that you were ugly? 

Better yet, 

Who can make a better you? 

Please raise your hands!

Let’s enter a contest and see who wins 

 

Just because you create little Barbie dolls 

Doesn’t mean you make the perfect body 

Oh please! Humour me by creating man!  

Who said stitching yourself all over would make you beautiful? 

I look down and wonder where my daughter is 

 

Do you think for a moment 

That I lied when I said you were good? 

Good enough, 

I had to rest from making you 

 

Who made the birds? 

Do you think for a moment 

That I who made those beautiful creatures 

Would not also make you more beautiful? 

 

I crafted you with my hands 

I knew you before you were conceived 

Please don’t believe the lies that you were a mistake 

You were ordained from the start 

Check the master plan if you doubt 

 

I made you unique 

One of a kind 

Custom designed  

If you doubt, check who matches your fingerprints 

 

Why grieve me? 

Why make me sad? 

My dear one 

Don’t believe the lies 

Don’t hurt yourself 

Because you’re hurting me in the process 

 

I still love you.

-From Your Father

  ©Mfon Etuk, 2016

 

 

34 thoughts on “Self Hate”

  4. I love this! It reminds me of my Identity Crisis post on Transformer Girl’s website. It’s so awesome how God is speaking to His children about our true worth and beauty. We’re worth more than rubies ❤💎

    Like

    Reply

  10. Wow. This is incredible. It literally took my breath away. You are very talented and a direct voice of the divine! Such a heart wrenching and truthful poem that anyone who lacks self love would benefit from reading! xx

    Like

    Reply

  11. Reblogged this on Dear Dad and commented:
    I came across this talented writer today and felt compelled to share her breathtakingly beautiful poem. It speaks to the heart and reinforces the power and unique beauty of each and every one of us. A beauty that sadly, so many of us forget.

    With so much media and airbrushing and ‘ideals’ – Dainty M’s poem reminds us of the importance of loving ourselves; accepting ourselves. For we are all children of God and created perfectly in His vision.

    Thank you Dainty M for this wonderful piece written from the heart.

    xx

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  15. Made by the Master Craftsman. You have caught out attention to the fine detail God designs for each of us. Flaws are only in the eye of “the man made from dirt” not in the eye of God.

    Like

    Reply

    1. Aww, I like this line “Flaws are only in the eye of “the man made from dirt” not in the eye of God.” Thanks for your contribution Oneta! God bless!

      Like

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s