Carlie had noticed the mannequin in the department store window as she’d walked to work. Body-conscious after a recent painful breakup, Carlie envied the mannequin: always young, always thin, always chic with lustrous brunette waves, skinny jeans, and a fitted tunic. One afternoon, Carlie gazed up at the perfect face and whispered, “I wish I were you.” To her astonishment, the mannequin, as if by telepathy, admonished Carlie. “No, sweetheart, to be alive, that is my wish. But you’re wasting your life caring about what other people think. Only when you love yourself can you allow another to love you.”