Updated: Aug. 20, 2023
Originally Published: April 17, 2023
My partner adores my appearance. If you were to ask him to describe me, he would mention my thick, shimmering hair that cascades in lovely waves. He would say I don’t require makeup; my hazel eyes hold enough intrigue and playfulness to brighten my face. He particularly admires my lips, which he describes as a vibrant shade of red, reminiscent of ripe cherries, possibly fit for Cupid himself.
He finds my waist to be petite, while my belly has the perfect gentle curve that he finds endearing. My breasts are full and in perfect harmony with my hips. My legs are long and gracefully taper down to delicate ankles, and my slender feet are equally beautiful in both flats and heels. I am voluptuous. I am soft.
He can’t get enough of me. He loves how my curves feel in his embrace, how my hair brushes against his skin when we kiss. He enjoys watching me walk away, and I revel in the warmth of his gaze.
His view of me is so powerful that I begin to believe it myself. When he tells me I’m beautiful, I feel like I could conquer anything. I am fierce. I am powerful. I am feminine. I move with elegance when I see myself through his perspective. My smile is authentic, and my laughter lines appear when I chuckle. My hips sway gently, and my chest stands proud. The contours of my body are soft, the slope of my shoulders blending effortlessly with the strength of my arms—muscles honed by cradling our children.
Yet, I am often startled when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, expecting to see the enchanting woman my partner envisions. But instead, I confront a disconnect that leaves me feeling lost. Where does this disparity lie? Is it in his perception, or is it my own?
The reflection brings a familiar ache to my chest, accompanied by a feeling not quite shame, but rather a sinking sensation akin to disappointing someone I care deeply about. It’s reminiscent of when, as a young girl, I accidentally broke my mother’s cherished serving dish, a family heirloom. I remember her crumpling to the floor, her hand flying to her mouth as she processed the loss. In that moment, I felt a wave of shame wash over me, knowing I had let her down.
As an adult, that same rush of emotion catches in my throat when I pass a mirror. The image staring back at me feels like a shadow of the alluring woman I aspire to be. I don’t see a vibrant force of nature; instead, I see an average suburban mom. Sure, my hair is decent, but it lies flat and heavy against my scalp. Its color is more chestnut than blonde now, a result of the hormones from my pregnancies. My eyes, while a lovely shade of hazel, are framed by light lashes that require mascara to stand out. My cheeks are cheerful yet plump, and my lips? They often go chapped due to neglect.
My skin, while decent, is beginning to show signs of age with noticeable lines forming. I am more than just curves; I carry the remnants of motherhood with me. Baby weight lingers around my waist, folding over my lap when I sit. My belly bears silvery scars as reminders of the beautiful journey of motherhood. My breasts, once perky, now sag slightly from nursing three children. My long legs have gained some weight, and I no longer wear stilettos.
Reconciling the reality of my body with the fantasy my partner sees is a daily challenge. I admire the woman he loves; she embodies everything I long to be. I choose her. I choose the reflection I see in his eyes. Forget the one in the mirror.
That choice, that empowerment, makes me fierce.
For more insights on this journey, you can explore this post on home insemination. If you’re interested in learning more about pregnancy, the CDC offers an excellent resource that covers a wide range of topics. Additionally, for those curious about self insemination, check out the Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Kit, a great authority on the subject.
Summary
This piece reflects on the journey of self-acceptance and the disconnect between one’s self-image and how a partner perceives them. It explores the feelings of inadequacy that can arise when comparing oneself to an idealized version and emphasizes the importance of choosing to embrace the beauty that love can reveal.