The Woman in the Mirror

Yet, with the fading stretch marks, extra plumpness, and the softness that has now become my body, I am more comfortable in my own skin then when everything was perky and nearly perfect, not so many years ago. I find that extremely ironic, that the insecurities I felt deep within were not apparent on the outside. I was nothing more then a pretty package filled with emptiness, longing and self-hatred.

The package I posses on the outside is not nearly as beautiful as it once was. Time and childbearing are taking a toll. Yet, the woman within, the woman I am becoming is far more beautiful then I ever allowed myself to imagine, or even dare to hope for.

Now I marvel at the little miracles my body has produced. I look into their deep blue eyes, and at times it seems I can see forever. I can see my past, present and future. I see innocence and a beauty that is far more spectacular then beauty of mere flesh.

I hope that in the years to come I am able to pass on this revelation to my own daughters. I hope that they will understand how beautiful their little souls truly are, and that it really is what is on the inside that counts. I hope that if they are blessed enough to have babies of their own, that they too can embrace the changes to their physical bodies in exchange for the connection and beauty of little miracles that too call them “Mama”.