Beautiful

I feel like I am as heavy as a whale. I waddle like a duck. I am about as quick as a turtle and roll over as easily as one too. My clothes don't fit well and my ankles have morphed into large sausage-like rolls that extend from my calves to my toes. The stretch marks across my belly are deep red and purple and my belly button is inverted halfway, oddly visible through the front of my clothes. I breathe heavy doing, well...nearly anything, and feel exhausted most of the time. Some days I don't even feel human, let alone pretty.

And yet every day--every single day--I am reminded of this reality, of how I look:
Adorable. Cute. Pretty. Flickin' Hot. Sexy. Beautiful.
He says it with words, he shows me with gestures. I may complain about this or that ("My hips are so wide!" or "How ugly are my cankles?!" or "I look incredibly large in this shirt."), however his response is the same, and I am reminded of how beautiful I am--even now--when I often feel anything but.

Now THAT is beautiful. And so am I.

Thank you, it's true. :)