"Gossip, subtle jabs,
and put downs
are fancy gowns
that misery wears
when she plays dress up."
Pride is a seductress wooing prey into her full bosom, stripping them of responsibility. 
She whispers sweet lullabies into welcoming ears putting to sleep accountability. 
In her fairy tale the damsel suffers helplessly at the hand of the villain. 
She is always faultless by her own estimation.
She is quite the Jezebel that Pride, perfuming our stench with sweet fragrance, romanticizing self-image.  
She cleverly subtracts truth from the facts, yielding an equation that seems always to place total responsibility elsewhere. When reality threatens to enter her quarters, she reconstructs her boudoir,
veiling her mirrors with satin sheets.
Pride is a temptress keeping us doped on her tantric high unable to admit to our mistakes.
I recognize the allure of her appeal, she appeases the psyche and elevates her subjects to perfection;
making us blind to our own faults.
She surrounds herself only with those that perpetuate this exalted self-image,
shunning all that might illuminate her dark spots, or challenge her to reach higher. 
Hers is a reality built on lies. She is far more concerned with maintaining ego than actualizing purpose. 
I refuse to spend a lifetime hypnotized in her allure. 
While abandoning allegiance is difficult, it is necessary
because denial is a luxury I simply cannot afford. 
We must expose her fictitious fairytale to live authentically,
and muster the courage to face ourselves,
and take full responsibility for the fact that
we are not a victim of our circumstances,
but the creators of them.
Let's rip the veil from her mirrors to examine the pimples,
and chin hairs, and unsightly blemishes exposed in our reflections. 
Instead of covering them with concealer,
let’s treat them with ointment and pluck them from existence.  
For we would all be liars and fools and hypocrites to pretend that we’re not,
at times, overcome with jealousy, hate, and insecurity. 
We are human and therefore subject to the full spectrum of our being.
Let us own the tension between our idealized selves and the reality of our imperfections
let's be brave and honest to confront them
so that the next time we perceive another to be more beautiful or handsome, more smart or successful;
We can acknowledge if their splendor makes us doubtful of our own worth. 
Recognizing this emotion as insecurity gives us power to counteract it immediately. 
Let’s be conscious to curb the natural reflex to measure ourselves against one another and call out flaws or broadcast shortcomings, realizing that we are only diminishing their light to feed our own darkness. 
Let’s reverse the impulse to back stab, and counteract the status quo until the practice is no longer an exercise in self-control, but a hard coded personality trait permanently tattooed on our character.
Pride is a bitch, but we won't tolerate her mean girl antics or allow ourselves to become minions to her pettiness. We will not celebrate failure or rejoice in laughter at the expense of another and we won't set traps and sit back to watch them fall. We will love, support, and encourage one another realizing that confidence is the cure for insecurity.
We are women, not girls.
We have worlds to change,
generations to inspire,
movements to lead,
and purpose too great to be dwarfed in her perpetual adolescent state. 
We realize that gossip, subtle jabs, and sly put downs
are just fancy gowns that misery wears when she plays dress up. 
Pride is a vain temptress given to meaningless self-interest.
We will no longer participate in her childish games. 
 
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