Sheeba Singh

“Pretty pretty please, don’t you ever feel

That you’re less than

Fucking perfect..” – Pink.

 A fifteen-year-old face, with glistening blue eyes, beaming with the sort of life and love I cannot help but fall for every time I see her. Anne-Marie, one of my clients’ eyes widened one day as she pointed to the speakers and yelled, “This is my song.”

Not as familiar to popular music, as my peers would hope; this song was new to me. It was not until days later, I took heed to a text Anne-Marie had sent me. “Fucking perfect by Pink,” was all it said. Without having had the “time” to pull out this 3-minute song from my day of 24 hours, I missed out on a valuable lesson until I finally exposed myself to it.

Every time these words run through my ears, I cannot help but smile, think of a perfect Anne-Marie bobbing her head, smiling to these words. How could I have missed this before?

When we open ourselves past our own lessons, we realize what we can learn from everyone. This vibrant young girl was a refreshing hour of my day, and I thank her for this.

A wild-child, so far from miscreant, and definition from what I could only see as an amazing woman in the works, stride speaks in volumes of her strength. It would be unethical for me to get into the sort of stuff this young one has faced, but I hold my head and heart up to her. And her being taller than me has nothing to do with it.

Anne-Marie, “You’re fucking perfect” my dear little one. And that will forever remain… to me.