She looks at her. She sees her in all of her radiant glory. Her strength. Her passion. Her unique beauty.

And the biggest tragedy in life, she thinks, is that she will never believe it.

She tells her anyway.

“You are beautiful,” she whispers softly, “In the way that the forest is beautiful in the first embrace of the morning sun. Its dark imperfections framed in pinks and golds, as luminous sunbeams race to kiss the dew awake.”

Blue eyes stare back at her, unwavering, unconvinced. But she is just getting started.

“You are strong. Your body is a shrine to be worshiped, to nourish, to adore, no matter what shape it inhabits. It is your ticket to freedom, as it lifts, moves and dances you through this life. It is powerful beyond the physical, and if you nurture it, it will not let you down, despite the insecurities that claw longingly for you.”

She watches the silent gaze flick longingly along the length of her own limbs. She does not move.

“You are an enigma; an ocean of thoughts that glitter on tides, of secrets that flow in the darkness. Not all may navigate your hidden depths, but those who are brave enough are blessed with your treasures. Those who do not drown in you will return often to bathe in your calm stillness.”

Her hand reaches out to touch a cold, smooth cheek. Her expression is stone. Disbelief lingers still.

She won’t give up.

“You are a rainbow against the grey light of the passing storm. In a world of darkness, your love is the sun and people long to feel your warmth on their face for as long as you will allow them to.”

No response.

“If you believe nothing else, you must know just one thing. You are enough. Just as you are. Right now, in this moment. And I will love you, without question, until we are gone from this world.”

In the darkened room, the mirror glimmers back at her as though a curse has finally been lifted. Perhaps it has. A familiar smile tugs at the lips that she knows so well. She bites them shyly.

Her reflection believes her at last

—

Author: JoJo Rowden

Image: Marta Nørgaard/flickr

Originally published on Elephant Journal here.