They say that the mirror never lies.
In the mirror I saw every imperfection.
But is the world's truth really within
the mirror's unforgiving reflection?
Or does beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder?
I grew to hate my body's imperfections.
In the reflection I could only see scars,
flaws and countless shortcomings.
Was my reality in the beholder or mirror?
Inundated with unattainable expectations.
Airbrushed beauty in glossy high definition
on the glorified pages of every magazine.
How could my reflection ever compare?
Impossible, true perfection is unattainable.
In desperate need for society's approval
I was so consumed I would sell my soul
for just a moment of perceived perfection.
Self doubt is a weight many women carry,
living in a digital world where you can't hide.
Objectified, judged, compare and scrutinized.
Daily life challenged all my raw insecurities.
An answer so simple I never imagined it.
His touch, a tender trail of a single finger,
Memorizing the femininity of my curves,
fearlessly tracing my jagged sharp edges.
A single finger outlining every single scar,
and a kind ear listening as I told their story.
Aimlessly trailing my entire body tenderly
embracing even my most hidden flaws.
Lying next to him I just wished for clarity.
Wanting for just a moment in time to see
myself through his beautiful knowing eyes.
To understand what he sees as we lie naked.
He taught me to see myself differently.
A new perspective, not as the beholder,
nor as the proverbial ever dreaded mirror.
In his eyes I saw the reflection of beauty.
He gave me a beautiful gift that is timeless.
Lying here missing him I am so grateful.
I daydream about the absent-minded way
he gently outlined my silhouette for hours.
In the darkness tonight I let my hand trace
the scars and imperfections as he did.
Each scar telling my personal journey
spelling my story as if written in braille.
So tonight I will lay here in the darkness
wondering why I couldn't see it before.
What would happen if we had the ability
to see the perfection in our imperfections.
Maybe that is the gift of finding true love,
the reason we gamble on it time and again
despite odds against the fairytale ending.
To see ourselves through another's eyes.
He will never know what a beautiful gift
His insight truly is to me every single day.
So I will spend a lifetime loving him and
Letting him see himself through my eyes.
No mirror needed, the beholder becomes ourselves.
In the mirror I saw every imperfection.
But is the world's truth really within
the mirror's unforgiving reflection?
Or does beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder?
I grew to hate my body's imperfections.
In the reflection I could only see scars,
flaws and countless shortcomings.
Was my reality in the beholder or mirror?
Inundated with unattainable expectations.
Airbrushed beauty in glossy high definition
on the glorified pages of every magazine.
How could my reflection ever compare?
Impossible, true perfection is unattainable.
In desperate need for society's approval
I was so consumed I would sell my soul
for just a moment of perceived perfection.
Self doubt is a weight many women carry,
living in a digital world where you can't hide.
Objectified, judged, compare and scrutinized.
Daily life challenged all my raw insecurities.
An answer so simple I never imagined it.
His touch, a tender trail of a single finger,
Memorizing the femininity of my curves,
fearlessly tracing my jagged sharp edges.
A single finger outlining every single scar,
and a kind ear listening as I told their story.
Aimlessly trailing my entire body tenderly
embracing even my most hidden flaws.
Lying next to him I just wished for clarity.
Wanting for just a moment in time to see
myself through his beautiful knowing eyes.
To understand what he sees as we lie naked.
He taught me to see myself differently.
A new perspective, not as the beholder,
nor as the proverbial ever dreaded mirror.
In his eyes I saw the reflection of beauty.
He gave me a beautiful gift that is timeless.
Lying here missing him I am so grateful.
I daydream about the absent-minded way
he gently outlined my silhouette for hours.
In the darkness tonight I let my hand trace
the scars and imperfections as he did.
Each scar telling my personal journey
spelling my story as if written in braille.
So tonight I will lay here in the darkness
wondering why I couldn't see it before.
What would happen if we had the ability
to see the perfection in our imperfections.
Maybe that is the gift of finding true love,
the reason we gamble on it time and again
despite odds against the fairytale ending.
To see ourselves through another's eyes.
He will never know what a beautiful gift
His insight truly is to me every single day.
So I will spend a lifetime loving him and
Letting him see himself through my eyes.
No mirror needed, the beholder becomes ourselves.