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Who Is That Woman My Partner Sees?
My partner thinks I’m stunning. If you asked him to describe me, he’d say I have thick, shimmering hair that cascades in lovely waves. He believes I don’t need makeup—my bright blue eyes are full of stories and a hint of mischief that light up my face. He particularly adores my lips, claiming they’re a cherry red, perfect enough to be a model for Cupid’s bow.
He sees my waist as petite and my belly as charmingly rounded. My curves are full and beautifully balanced with my hips. My legs are long and elegantly tapered, with delicate ankles that look fabulous in both flats and heels. I embody voluptuousness. I’m soft and feminine.
He can’t get enough of me. He revels in my shapely figure, how my curves fit perfectly in his embrace, and how my hair brushes against him when we kiss. He loves to watch me walk away, and I cherish the feeling of his eyes on me.
His perception of me is so powerful that it makes me believe it myself. When he tells me I’m beautiful, I feel invincible. I feel fierce and empowered. I walk with grace, seeing myself through his adoring gaze. My smile is genuine, and laughter brings out my joy. My body sways gently, and my confidence radiates. The contours of my body are soft, and the strength in my arms comes from the love and care I give to our family.
Yet, when I catch my reflection in a mirror, I’m often taken aback. I expect to see the goddess he sees, but instead, the woman staring back at me feels like a stranger—disconnected from his breathtaking description. I can’t tell where the truth lies: is it in his mind, or is it in my own?
The sight in the mirror sometimes makes my heart ache, stirring something akin to shame. Not exactly shame, but that sinking feeling when you disappoint someone you care about deeply. It’s reminiscent of when I accidentally broke my mother’s cherished serving tray as a little girl, watching her heart break at the loss.
As an adult, that same heavy feeling catches in my throat when I glance in the mirror. The image I see is a far cry from the temptress I envision. My body feels like it has betrayed me.
I don’t see a vibrant force; I see a tired suburban mom. My hair, while nice, feels heavy and flat. The color has faded to a duller brown from the hormonal changes during my pregnancies. My eyes, although a lovely cornflower blue, are framed by pale lashes that vanish without mascara. My cheeks are full, my lips often cracked because I forget to keep them moisturized. My skin is ordinary, showing signs of age with a noticeable line between my brows.
I’m more than just curves. I’m dealing with the remnants of baby weight that cling to my waist. My belly bears the marks of motherhood, complete with silver lines from stretching and a scar from a surgery that saved my children. While my breasts are full, they also sag from nursing. My legs, although long, feel heavy, and my thighs rub together—heels are a no-go.
Reconciling the reality of my body with the fantasy my partner holds is a daily struggle. However, I admire the woman my partner loves. She is the person I aspire to be. I choose to embrace the reflection in his eyes over the one in the mirror. That choice makes me feel powerful.
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Summary
Navigating the disconnect between how we see ourselves and how our partners perceive us is a common struggle. Embracing the love and admiration from our partners can empower us as we choose to let go of our self-doubt. Ultimately, it’s about choosing the version of ourselves that resonates with love and strength.