The Look: C. Fay Shlanda

Look. Really look. Take your time. You can see my height, weight, eye colour, and more. My physical body is easy to see. What you may have missed is my physical being. Watch as I describe it.

Witness the tapping of my foot, as it shakes its way through my nervousness. Notice the constant movement of my hands. They flex and appear taught as they rub my equally tight neck or dig into my flesh. Sense the subtle shifts from the clenching of random muscles. See the slope of my shoulders while they carry the weights that are my worries.

Inspect my skin. Feel the heat coming of it. Touch the sweat that beads on my furrowed brow. See the hives that dot my landscape. Random blotches challenging me in my effort to hide them. Now map the scars revealing my emotional travels. They underscore where I have been.

Get a visual of my eyes. See them narrow as I watch you. Look at the redness. Tiny veins overflowing, showing, and pulsing. Notice the dryness about to erupt into tears. Witness how my pupils respond to your gaze. My eyes darting around as they assess you in kind.

So look. Really look. See my physical body and my being. I am a person with a story to tell. Take the time to get to know me, all of me, and I will get to know you.