Who do you see when you look in the mirror?

For years, all I saw was what my dad told me I was and reflections of childhood taunts: I remember when I was in high school I worked at the telephone company, where I got off at ten o’clock at night. To save money I parked two blocks away at the post office. I wanted to pay the fifty cents and park next door, however my dad said that would be a waste of money.

I pleaded. Finally Dad said, “What are you afraid of? If somebody grabs you, get under a bright light. When they see what they’ve got, they’ll let you go.”
This is the same man who had been sexually abusing me for eight years.

The Urban Dictionary defines a Steel Magnolia as “A Southern woman who is strong and independent yet very feminine.” Talk about an understatement. Steel Magnolias have waned since the Feminist Movement when one fabricated personality replaced another.

I was raised in the South in the 50s when being feminine meant heavily starched crinolines and gloves. We wore no white after Labor Day or before Easter. By the time I was 12, I went to the Beauty Parlor every week. Big hair was important. There was no mistaking a girl for a boy back then. We were trained to be prissy and flirty. We were princesses.