I was in my room, sitting at the end of my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I hate my body, it's absolutely hideous. I'm just so fat and why anybody would even look in my direction and think I'm attractive is completely beyond me.
My boyfriend John says he disagrees but I can't get passed it. The thing I hate the most are my stretch marks. They're grotesque, they're like stupid little carvings that remind me how faulted I am. A permanent reminder that I don't look like those stick figure models on magazines or the high fashion models in Paris.
I keep my eyes fixed on the image of myself in front of me. Slowly I feel the corners of my eyes start to flood, quiet tears drip down my cheeks and on to my shorts. Soon enough I'm ugly crying, cursing my self and my body
"Love where are Ye?" I hear a voice call from the hallway. I don't answer I just continue to weep, sniffling and wiping my eyes to try and make it look like I haven't been crying.
"Hello- oh my, baby what's wrong?" John asks as he places himself next to me on the bed, taking my sweaty hand in his.
"Nothing I'm fine" I laugh through salty tears, smiling to the best of my abilities.
"That's such bullshit!" He whines. "Tell me what's wrong darling, I'm only here to help make it better" he rubs the surface of my hand with his thumb in smooth, gentle motions.
"No no it's stupid, it really doesn't matter" I continue to lie, I look toward John and I know he knows I'm lying. I give in and breakdown.
"I'm ugly... and annoying... and fat. I'm so fucked up it hurts to just look at me. I mean look at me! I'm like a... a.. a.. oh i don't know... a tomato or some shit. Just big and round and purely disgusting. I don't have any idea how you could find any of me beautiful. I don't even deserve someone as perfect as you..." I rambled and rambled, spilling my guts to him, wheezing and crying. If he though I was beautiful he sure won't now.
"Woah baby, I can't believe you would think any of that" he says, tears glossing over his own eyes in sadness.
"Well it's true isn't it" I ask, shying away and turning myself in the opposite direction from him, I felt humiliated.
He whipped me back around to face him and took both of my arms.
"No of course none of that is fucking true! Honey, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, your body is absolutely perfect to me, I love your stretch marks, they make you so much more interesting and stunning. Do you really think I wouldn't love you because you're not skinny? Hell no! You're so so so perfect and no one is telling me to say that, I wouldn't say it if it weren't true."
He shot up and took me with him, he made me stand with my eyes closed, I resisted at first but gave in a shut them. I stood patiently and then opened my eyes.
"John-" he had taken his top off, mines was off too from when I was shaming myself.
"Darling look, we're exactly the same" I looked to his torso. He had small marks sprawled around his stomach. They looked just like mine, but he seemed so happy, proud.
"John you're beautiful" I start to tear up again at his bravery and openness.
"Beautiful like you" he stared deeply and lovingly into my watery eyes and kissed me, perfectly passionate and bliss. We both started to cry in the kiss, which was followed by laughing.
I had never felt so special and loved.
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Wanted to do something that I could relate to, so here's this, take it and run x
-☀️
