The Journey to You
by Jenny Donaldson
Close your browsers.
Portals to online clutter.
Bombarding algorithms.
Just for you.
To keep you scrolling to infinity.
Turn away from the competition you are in.
The one against other people’s lives.
There are no winners.
Put down your phone.
---
Shield your ears from gossiping neighbours.
From untrue friends.
Their ignorance. Their thoughtlessness.
They do not know you.
Let their words slide off you, falling to the ground.
---
Take off your jewellery.
Your earrings. Nose rings. Body rings.
Bracelets.
Necklaces.
Set aside the silver and gold.
The pewter. Copper. Brass. Stainless steel.
The Glass. Quartz. Sapphires. Rubies. Diamonds.
They do not define you.
With reverence, set aside special pieces.
Your grandmother’s earrings. Your mother’s pearls.
Your great-grandmother’s marcasite brooch.
Your wedding ring.
Gifts of love for birthdays and anniversaries.
Hold their memories within you.
---
Wash away the bottled fragrance.
Traces of opulence enveloping you.
Floral notes of gardenia, sweat-pea, rose, mandarin.
Warm undertones of vanilla, musk, sandalwood.
Marketed as sophisticated sunbeams and joy.
---
Soften the glue of your false lashes.
Peel them off your delicate lids.
Remove your make-up.
Mascara that tints, primes, plumps.
The voluminous false-lash effect.
The wax. The paraffin. The polyvinyl acetate.
The ferric ferro-cyanide pigment.
Wipe it away.
The prism refracting, vibrant, buttery-soft, stay-true, shimmery powders.
Yellow 5 Lake - synthetic azo dye - in sensuous colours formulated by on-trend design teams.
Marketed to nurture, glide, re-shape, enhance, and magnify your eyes.
To flatter.
The silky blush to bring you radiance and that warm glow.
The foundation and concealer.
Elastic with oil control. Shiny, satin or matte.
To correct. Camouflage. Diffuse.
To blur supposed flaws.
Created to paint over the pigments of you.
The lipstick and gloss.
The feel-good colours.
Romantic tones.
Accentuating your lips.
Bathing them in glossy glam.
Remove it all.
---
Look in the mirror.
Notice your delicate lashes, curved frames around the glow of your eyes.
Your fresh-faced freckles, lines, imperfections, scars.
Feel the air on your naked pores.
A whispering breeze of love.
---
Step out of your heels.
Leave the designer shoes.
Take off your branded sneakers.
Nike. Adidas. Puma.
Set them aside.
Change your clothes.
Drop the brand labels.
Choose something plain.
No flowers. No stripes.
No patterns. No textures. No lace.
No intricate stitching.
No embellishments. No sparkle. No beading.
Perhaps a soft cotton t-shirt?
Comfortable pants?
Your favourite, plain colours.
Ordinary.
---
Free yourself from the elective consults and procedures.
Nerves damaged by a neurotoxin to paralyse your frowns.
And smiles.
Facial contours plumped with fillers to hide the imprints of your life.
Implants.
A selection of saline or silicone.
Lifts, nips and tucks.
To reshape you.
For the illusion of you.
The perceived beauty of you.
----
Ignore.
The plastic surgeons.
The aesthetic cosmetologists.
Peddling their services at the Menopause Conference.
The afternoon programme.
Preying on your insecurities.
Predators looking for customers.
Fuck off!
I’ll say it.
You might think it. Or whisper it.
I hope you scream it.
---
Let go of your relationship status.
Your being childless, childfree or the credentials of motherhood that you carry.
Your academic and athletic achievements.
Your address – the right-side or wrong-side of town.
The size of the house you live in.
The numbers in your bank account.
Set everything aside.
---
Walk with me to a clearing.
Tall trees surround you.
Soft sand beneath your feet.
Stand firmly in your authenticity.
Feel the earth beneath you.
Supporting you.
Place your hand on your chest.
Feel your heart beat.
Listen to your breath.
Know that you are safe.
Imagine other women gathering around you.
They too stand as you stand.
Layers peeled away.
You are not alone.
Let them gaze at you.
Feel their love and acceptance
While I sing to you:
How could anyone ever tell you,
You were anything less than beautiful?
How could anyone every tell you,
You were less than whole?
How could anyone fail to notice,
That your loving is a miracle,
How deeply you’re connected to your soul?
---
I am your love for you.
Let me sing you home,
Into the magnificent kaleidoscope of you.
August 2025
Cape Town, South Africa