Her Speech

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I do not know what came over me. This just happened in the span of like fifteen minutes or less. If you guys want me to publish the actual speech Dyani gives, please leave comments asking for it.

Submitted: July 31, 2016

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Submitted: July 31, 2016

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It was nearly here, now.  Her scheduled time to impart the wisdom that she had been gathering all the years of her life was upon her.  The young woman took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror in the makeshift dressing room backstage of the auditorium.  Her dress, a deep shade of blue with gemstones encrusted to the chest and upper waist area, fitted against her body.  She’d decided against shapewear or a slip, which left every roll and lump visible.  This dress had been her decision weeks ago, and she’d suffered a lot of criticisms for it.  Yesterday, after being told that her dress just “wasn’t flattering” for what seemed like the billionth time, she almost broke down.  Her mind had immediately drifted to the black, full slip she kept in her underwear drawer.  But, after a few moments of thought, she’d held her ground.  This was what she was here for.  This sort of idealism was why she’d agreed to speak today.  She shifted a bit, and watched the skirt around her knees shift as well.  Being in a fitted dress made her feel almost naked.  She thought that was sad.  Tons of women wear the same kind of dress every day, but it was girls and women like her who were made to feel ashamed about it.  Not today.  Today she would show her lumps and bumps and rolls with pride.  As she took one last look in the mirror, a young man dressed in all black appeared.  He listened to the headset he wore for a second before gesturing to her.

“You’re up, Dyani,” he said with a grin.  He had a kind voice that soothed her nerves a bit.  She followed him to the edge of the stage and took a deep breath.  The announcer was out there, speaking to the crowd.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” she began.  “Please give a warm welcome to our speaker, Dyani Stevenson!”  There was applause and Dyani felt her legs move at their own accord, the short heels of her velvet ankle boots clicking against the wood of the stage as she made her way to the large black podium.  After what seemed like an eternity, she squared her shoulders and leaned slightly towards the microphone.

“How is everyone doing tonight?” she asked.  From the crowd, she heard a few “okays” and “goods”.  She cleared her throat, and smiled brightly.

“I’m sure you all know what I’m here for, but just to be positive, I’ll tell you anyway.  I’m here to discuss why our society should try harder to eradicate the practice of body-shaming.” 


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