Displaced Beauty Queen

Image found on davidsbridal.com

The sunlight gleams in through the window. Her room is a shrine to her former glory, perhaps a bit immature for a grown woman. The dust has begun to collect on her crowns and trophies. The ball gowns still hanging in the closet, once vibrant, are beginning to fade.

The memories play in her head. Walking across that stage. Being crowned. Wearing the sash. Was it really all that long ago?

People don’t dress anymore. Girls these days seem to revel in the lack of effort put into their wardrobe. This, she could never understand. And what was it with the young girls wearing all black every day? There were so many colors to wear…so many options! Such wasted opportunity.

Many days, she felt out of place. She still woke up an hour earlier than necessary to make sure her hair and makeup were perfect. She still went to the salon every three weeks to make sure her greys were covered…

She looks in the mirror trying find some resemblance to the young beauty she once was. Laugh lines and crow’s feet now mar her face. The compliments don’t come as readily anymore. If she were honest, this is perhaps what gnaws at her most. If she doesn’t have her beauty anymore, what is she left with? Faded memories of her glory days?