She couldn’t help it. She tried not to… But it was just habit now. Looking at herself in The full length mirror After her shower…
She would stare She would assess She would sigh And shake her head And try so hard Not to cry…
She would turn and walk away… Shoulders sagging a little lower, Spirits dragging a little heavier.
He watched her. He hated seeing her like this. He could not understand her sadness Or the fact that she wouldn’t Share her troubled thoughts With him.
So he waited… Until the next time. And when she stood Sighing sadly in the mirror He crept up behind her And took her in his arms Keeping her from pulling away “Keep looking,” he instructed, “But tell me what you see.”
His heart broke As she listed off All the flaws that She saw staring back at her. She talked of sags And of bags And the stripes That marked her hips And abdomen As the tears of shame Streaked her cheeks and her voice Was a whisper Of disappointment.
He took a shaking breath And swallowed his own tears And in her ear He hoarsely whispered…
“These breasts that sag, As you say they do, Have provided nourishment To our children And comfort and pleasure To me. The skin that is not as tight Shows the fight that you fought To be healthy and live longer So we can grow older Together. These stripes? They are the story That tell of the growth Of the life inside you That we created Together in love And you carried Selflessly and beautifully And that You fought so hard To bring safely into this world.”
He took a deep breath… “You may see flaws And things to cut and tuck… But I see the woman Who makes me hard Who has comforted me Who has supported me Who has loved me And who is mine.
I see poetry in motion And beauty personified.
And someone I want to spend Making love to For all the days Of our lives.
But first…. The mirror goes.
The only reflection That need matter Is the one you see In my eyes…
Every woman has mastered this. We are actually born with this skill.
You level up when you can do it with long sleeves
I was the only girl on an all-boys varsity soccer team. I had to change on the bus during away games because I didn’t have a locker room at other schools. I was not uncomfortable with that, actually. I did what I had to.
But one day I noticed that like three guys who were seniors were just staring at me as I did this and I must have shot them a dirty look because one of them (who is actually a family friend) was like “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare, but we’re still trying to figure out how the hell girls do that” and I just felt bad. They just want to get their girlfriend’s bra off without losing an eye and we can remove the whole thing like fucking wizards