I know, I know. Enough with the photos of me already. Last one, I swear.
My daughter comes from me. Her flesh and bone is from my flesh and bone. Her DNA is from my DNA. My wrinkles will someday be her wrinkles. My sagging boobs will someday be her sagging boobs. And so, to deny my beauty is to deny her beauty for the rest of her life. She already knows how beautiful I am. And her current definition of my beauty is the true definition of beauty. I only need to confirm it for her in my words and actions.
I am beautiful, child. This stomach full of stretch marks and weird wrinkles is beautiful because it reminds me of you. These crow’s feet tracking around my eyes are beautiful because they are the result of laughing so hard at your antics.
Click here to read I Am Beautiful.
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