You know you’re not a beauty
“Sarah, where are you?! Why on earth have I been trying to reach you for an hour?! If that article isn’t on my desk by Monday, you’re fired!”
“Go stuff it!” Sarah yelled into the void.
She slammed on the brakes, causing the car to screech awkwardly on the wet road, skidding slightly before coming to a stop. Feeling truly, suffocatingly alone, Sarah sat in her car, unsure of how to change the course of her life.
Why was it so different for her friends? Former classmates who’d either married wealthy men or found success on their own. At twenty-four, almost twenty-five, Sarah felt like she was standing still, stuck in this cursed life. No matter what she did, fate seemed determined to trip her up. It was as if she was never meant to find joy in this life.
Sarah had finally landed a decent job, but even then, things went awry. She worked her heart out as a freelancer, running around with articles, hoping she’d finally get her break. But it was all for naught.
Sarah loved her job at the magazine, yet, ever since they appointed someone—someone for whom she had no polite words—as chief editor instead of her, she despaired at ever catching a break.
Sarah felt utterly defeated. Her former ambitions were left bogged down in filth, much like how she felt right now. Her phone vibrated ceaselessly inside the car. She didn’t even want to get up to answer it.
That pretty boy, installed in the editor’s seat by God knows who, was calling again. Before Simon Davis arrived, the magazine thrived. Sarah had stood a solid chance of becoming the chief editor. Now, this pompous turkey had permanently occupied the chair.
Sarah had always dreamed of being a journalist, working in a magazine, making a difference, chasing stories in the field. But the dream had turned into a protracted stagnation.
As a student, she had dived straight into gaining practical experience.
And now, there she was—a journalist, a true wordsmith—sitting in the cold mud by her car.
The phone continued its relentless vibrating. Sarah stood with a squelchy sound, ineffectively brushing off her jeans. Finally, she dropped into the seat and picked up the phone, which was near exploding with calls from the chief editor.
“MacDonald! You ought to use your head a bit! I yelled at you for an article that was already complete. Why do you torment me like this?” Simon Davis’s booming, velvety voice rang in her ear.
Having barely set foot in the office, Davis had sown complete chaos among the staff. They tripped over each other trying to catch his eye, yet seemingly in vain.
“Did you even give me the chance to speak? You yell like…” She was tempted to call him a pompous rooster but held her tongue, intent on not hastening her already impending dismissal.
“Be at the office at ten tomorrow, as usual. I’ve got questions about the material for ‘Star Build’. And don’t vanish on me again. I don’t want to lose a journalist like you, especially now. You know how hard it is to find good people.”
Well, fancy that! If you just opened your eyes and looked at the desk, there was the article. It was maddening! In moments like these, she recalled her mother’s words bitterly. Her mother had always insisted she wouldn’t amount to much. How could Sarah respect herself so little as to stay at a job offering no career trajectory?
“You’re no beauty, Sarah. Only women with never-ending legs, tiny waists, and cartoonishly plump lips can carve out a life at others’ expense. You’ll be towing this life’s burdens on your own shoulders, just wait and see,” her mother’s voice echoed in her head.
Perhaps her mother was right. Who was Sarah to pretend otherwise? Chief editors at other magazines—all stunners, every one of them. Impossible to strike a deal with them; they just flutter their lashes and tap away at the keyboard.
Sarah sniffed indignantly, wiped her streaming nose. A rented tiny flat, debt, constant problems. A husband worth essentially nothing. How had she overlooked his childishness and reluctance to contribute anything?
It was scary to leave, but staying was unbearable. She loved the magazine, had no desire to leave. Yet here she was…
Sarah returned home; she couldn’t keep sitting in mud-soaked jeans.
She stepped into her flat, stripped off the muddy clothes, and threw them in the wash, then stood under the steamy hot shower, the streams biting into her skin and leaving red streaks behind. Only in such near-scalding water could she break free from life’s monotonous rut.
“I’m home!” a voice called from the corridor.
By then, Sarah had cooled down a little. She stepped into the hallway, kissed her husband on the cheek. Where had the fiery passion that once united them gone?
“Why’s your face red? Crying over nothing again?” James asked, tugging off his shoes.
Sarah opened her mouth but didn’t bother to reply. Everyone around her had a remarkable way of minimizing her problems. Only they could have problems; as for her, well, what could she possibly have to fuss over…
“The papers arrived, the test results,” Sarah said calmly.
“What papers?” James asked, having completely forgotten about their health check.
A child might have benefited her, if she put it that way. Maternity leave could have given her some breathing room, time to figure out her career’s direction. Sarah needed time to exhale, commit to her family, her own needs.
Perhaps the time was right?
Sarah suspected her anger stemmed from a deep, long-held subconscious desire to become a mother, clinging instead to a career that stubbornly spun its wheels.
James changed into comfortable sweatpants, sat back in the chair, and ran his hands down his face, stretching the skin oddly. He leaned back, muttered a curse, then said:
“Why do you need kids now?”
“In what sense?” Sarah asked, startled. “I’m nearly twenty-five, you’re thirty-two. It’s not trendy to be an older first-time mum. We agreed, we did the tests together. We’re fine to become parents!”
“Sarah, I just think it’s not the right time.”
And once again, James backed out. Sarah, watching him, suddenly realized he’d been stringing her along the whole time. He wanted no kids, no responsibility; that much was clear. All he needed was a young wife, free from any obligations.
Suddenly, Sarah felt the weight of her unfair, struggle-laden life wash over her. At her age, her career should’ve been stable already, or she could’ve had a child, with dreams of a real, warm, complete family…
It was heartbreaking how the chief editor led her around, her husband comfortably camped on her neck yet imposing his demands…
And then it struck Sarah that there seemed to be no room for her in her own life.
Without a word, she started packing her things. Her husband stared, speechless, gaping like a fish dragged ashore.
“Do whatever you want!” Sarah threw at him finally. With one last look at her husband, she realized she was making the right choice—more right than ever!
…Sarah filed for divorce, ignoring her husband’s pleas, for he was full of empty promises from the start. She quit the magazine; there was no future there, and her dream career was but a distant fantasy. Her life turned upside down. It was terrifying, yet there was intrigue about where it could lead.
Sarah refused to give up. Two months after leaving the magazine, she received an offer from another publication to lead a department. Sarah accepted immediately, throwing herself wholeheartedly into her new responsibilities. Post-divorce, it turned out her husband, not managing to find a job, didn’t pay for their rented flat but instead returned to his mother’s home, living off her.
In that moment, Sarah realized her decision had been spot on. She’d spared herself just in time, starting fresh from zero. Sometimes, to grow a beautiful flower, it needs to be cut right back to the root.
Three years passed since Sarah’s sudden, impulsive decision to overhaul her life. Since then, everything had seemingly fallen into place. Her career flourished, she was promoted to assistant editor and was on the cusp of becoming the editor herself, just as she had dreamed. She was valued at work, and competitors frequently sought her out.
And now, a worthy man shared her life, unafraid of responsibility and ready for a more serious future. All it had taken was courage to change everything she’d grown accustomed to.
Looking back now, Sarah realized that despite the fear she’d felt, she did not regret her decision one bit.
