It did not suit her, that they were saying such things about her; and what was more, they were saying it right to her face. She could not blame them, for she knew that they assumed they were paying her compliments. She found it a little bit funny how people only accepted and ran along with things that they knew and understood, and that to them there was no bigger picture. But then she was just like them, so she should not have said anything.
But it wasn't right, you see, that these people thought it was pretty, and haute couture and all that, to be a couple of kgs underweight in order to appear what they called slim and beautiful and characteristic for a model. It wasn't beautiful. It was an unnatural, influenced, worldly and evil process. Not in every case, of course. In some cases, it was perfectly natural and good. But this was not one of them.
We couldn't all live in a Tinseltown world, where we were expected to rapidly pack on or shed kgs for another role. She couldn't at least. She was a normal girl with a God-given being that deserved to be cherished and respected and not treated the way it had been.
But they didn't know that. They didn't have to. So they continued paying their compliments and she continued saying her thank yous because it was easier than telling her story. But inside she watched herself in horror, at the way she had no restrictions in playing along to the norms of society regardless of how wrong they were.
They didn't know, you see. Sometimes she barely knew herself. But He did and He watched as He always did, very sadly and with tracks of tears on His beautiful, worn face.
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