I love my eyes.
I always have.
Is it more humble if I don’t admit this?
Am I more down to earth if I continually deny my beauty?
Will you refuse to see me as arrogant as long as I promise to see myself as forever ugly?
Am I more tolerable, more digestible, less threatening as long as we make a pact that I never acknowledge my strengths?
My eyes have always been my favourite.
They were always the answer to the question “What do you love most about yourself?”
Some might say that’s the fat girl’s answer to that question because god forbid, I loved my belly or my thighs or heck my waist!
Yes, I do all of things nowwww but my eyes, I’ve always loved my eyes.
I loved them so much that I used to dye my hair brown because no one would notice how light they are because of how dark my hair was.
Now, I don’t. I see them as a little surprise. Friends years into our friendship will tell me that they never realised how light my eyes were.
Boys who get the privilege of staring into them get the chance to notice them.
Yet… I love my eyes for so much more now than simply their colour.
I love my eyes for how much beauty they’ve allowed me to see in the world.
I love my eyes for noticing the smiles of passing strangers on the street.
I love my eyes for always being attracted to the bright and colourful.
I love my eyes for always seeing the beauty in everything.
I love my eyes because they help me see the world in my own unique way.
When’s the last time you wrote a love letter to a body part?
Start with your favourite and work through all the rest of your faves.
Or start with your least favourite and force yourself to find the gratitude and the good things.
It’s ok for a woman to think she’s beautiful.
It’s ok for a woman to think she’s pretty
PS I’m beautiful (and I don’t care if you agree)