With my hands tied behind my back

It's after the party. The ballroom is littered and empty. I am naked. My hands are tied behind my back. There is no music. The band is long gone. Yet, still I dance. I dance with a smile.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Mary Freakin Poppins

A couple of the things I detest about myself is the fact that I'm too nice and I always think of good comebacks after the fact.
Yesterday I met my STBX's girlfriend of almost 10 months. I was picking my kids up and she officially introduced herself. Kudos to her for introducing herself, but that didn't help her out in forming my first impression.
She practically ran out of her house, met me on the sidewalk and puked nicey nice all over me. I was stunned. STBX just stood behind her not saying a word. Stood behind her like her little boy toy. She evidentially is one of those fake, shallow, overly nice persons who most normal people would like to strangle. Or poke a spork in her eyeball.
So she runs out of the house, throws her hand out to me to shake, introduces herself like I've heard a zillion of her greatest accomplishments and then proceeds to tell me how great my children are. I swear it was a good thing I had my sunglasses on because I'm sure my expression would've given me away. Not impressed.
Sure, she was cute and thin (ug!) but, MY GOD, how fake. SLJ was sitting in the car witnessing the tragedy. He saw her, heard her and did one of these numbers "Oh. For. Real." and lowered his head so he wouldn't have to witness the ugliness.
I was waiting for her to invite me in and pour me a nice cold glass of fresh squeezed lemonade and we could sit and chat in her gazebo in the garden.
Or take a picnic in the park with her BFF Snow White.
Doubt if she's even heard of "Clutch" or "Rob Zombie."
I'm positive my SIL hates her.
I see bad times ahead for my Goth loving, long haired child and her.
I have to admit, I wasn't prepared. It threw me back a few steps. I wanted to go back and say something rude like "Yah my kids get it from their mother" or "I'm glad my kids are good for you, how's my husband been acting?"
I was just stunned that the STBX would be with someone like that. And then I thought about it for a moment and decided that indeed they were two peas in a pod. Only swimming in the kiddy pool.
She may be thinner... but I guarantee I'm having way better sex!!

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Single?

I had a date last night. Yup, met this hottie at the mall and we had dinner together and did some shopping. We had a great time. I think I'll move in with him. Oh, wait...I already did that last month.

I met SLJ after work for an official date. We went to this local Stir-Fry Grill where you mix up your own concoction of stir-fry and then pass it off to the grill to be cooked. It's fun. The first time I had went there was with Andi and I think I hated it. I think I didn't like it because it was too much work for a meal. I've been back several times since and it has grown on me. I knew SLJ would like it because he likes to experiment w/ foods. He was overwhelmed at first. Out of his comfort zone. But I was nice and walked him through it. Poor guy gets overwhelmed looking at a chinese menu, I knew he'd be anxious over the stir-fry buffet.

We talked about our first few dates with each other and laughed a lot. It seems like years ago and in reality it was only about 5 months ago. On our first date he didn't even try to hold my hand or kiss me. He says that I was too scary. Who whittle ole me? Scary? Aw. The fact that he didn't try to hold my hand or kiss me goodnight until our third date was the very reason I knew he was going to be mine. He was different. And he was truly good.

For anyone that has ever been on blind dates, seen "Must Love Dogs", read Danielle Steels novel "Dating Game", or are thinking about getting back into the dating field, then this is dedicated to you! Know that you are not alone. Train Wrecks are not prejudice. They happen to all of us.

I don't have much experience in the dating field, but I did learn a few valuable lessons. Of course it wasn't pleasant at the time, but now I can sit back and laugh about it. What a disaster.

(Names have been changed to protect the players.)

Player numero uno, shall we call him "GayBoy"? (Why not, that's sure to piss him off. But he deserves it. Shake your head yes "GayBoy." You must agree that you deserve it.)Anyways, I had actually known GB for a while. His sexuality was always in question by his peers, but then again, whose isn't. I thought nothing of it. One night I was out with my friends at my favorite dance club (that happens to be notorious for homosexuality, tranies and swingers) and who did I happen to run into but GB. The first thing out of his mouth was, and I quote, "I'm not gay." Should've sent the sirens off right there, but I was lonely and I really didn't care. So GB and I actually caught up on old times and started "dating." The whole time we "dated" I wanted to classify the arrangement. Were we boyfriend/girlfriend? Were we friends w/ benefits? Were we exclusive? The answers I got back went something like this..."We're having a good time right? We don't need to label anything. We're friends. No I'm not seeing anyone else currently. I don't date for sport. You're a great woman and a great mother" and so on and so forth. GB and I hung out for a few months. We really did have a lot of fun. He made me laugh constantly. GB was a funny guy. I knew I wasn't going to marry GB, but I did like spending time with him and thought fondly of him. Then somewhere around the 3 month mark, my eyes started opening. GB didn't have a steady job. GB had been in jail for assault (that he swore his innocense on.) GB had six bars of smelly good flowery soap in his shower. GB would get up and go to the restroom when the check came. GB had his attorney on speed dial. GB openly lied to his "friends" when it was in his best interest. GB was always on his god damned cell phone. GB had some questionable conduct. GB had "been with" several people. And the list goes on. On his behalf, GB was somewhat honest with me. He was a fun guy and introduced me to a few new ideas. He helped me with my self esteem and made me realize that I am a great mother.

So what went wrong? Well, I was trying to set up one of my work associates with one of GB's work associates which totally backfired on me and ended with my work associate set up with GB. How that happened right in front of my face, I'm totally not sure and no longer care. Our "relationship" ended tragically and I was pretty messed up after it did end. I found myself alone again and rejected not once, but twice. I had been deceived by my work associate and by GB. And I had to attend my company Christmas party stag. I was already still reeling from my separation w/ the STBX when GB announced that he didn't think I had "both feet planted firmly on the ground" and that I was "playing a victim." Hard blow. It was truly ugly. Now I look back at it, grateful for the fun times and laughter in a very low moment in my life. Grateful for the work GB had done on my vehicle fairly inexpensively. And grateful for what I learned and that was: the fact that I am a beautiful woman. I am a great mother. To trust my instincts. That I don't have to settle. That men w/ six bars of smelly good, flowery soap make better friends than boyfriends. And I can bounce back.

Player numero dos. Lets call him Brown. I still adore Brown. Brown was nice looking, financially together, had a great network of friends and was very nice to me. The bad thing about Brown was that he was a drama king, was still stuck on his old girlfriend. Brown was actually only two official "dates" and a few long phone conversations (all about his ex girlfriend). Brown is still a decent guy and I hope the best for him, but I was able to look clearly at that picture and clearly knew it wasn't for me. I was a couple of months out of the "relationship" w/ GB and had bounced back with new lessons so I was totally more than capable of handling Brown and whatever that was or wasn't. The funny thing about Brown though...he actually said I needed to be around the dating block longer. I needed a few more rejections on my belt. Yah. Ok. As if the STBX and GB hadn't taught me how to swim with the sharks. I pretty much rolled my eyes and moved on. I didn't need a relationship coach. I kinda got my first clue when I brought over a bottle of wine and Brown had to search his entire kitchen from top to bottom for wine glasses. Brown was still a little boy in big boy britches.

Player numero tres. I don't even want to go here... but I will only if to steer someone else far away from his type. Numero tres was my first date through the dating site. I was pretty excited. Numero tres looked really good on the outside. Had a great job, full custody of his child... he seemed to qualify. So we IM'd and spoke on the phone and met for pizza. I should've saw the warning signs when the IM's started getting a little racey. But alas, I was once again alone with nothing else to do. It was new, it was exciting, it was stupid and immature. Numero tres actually wrestled me. Numero tres put me in a head lock on our second date. I was completely astounded. I was wondering if I had been thrust into a time warp and landed in sixth grade again. Were we seriously wrestling. Wow.

I'm totally laughing my ass off right now.

Did I really go through all of those train wrecks? Yes. Yes I did. Dating totally sucks. But yes, it does make for good story telling.

And it does make you appreciate the SLJ's in the world. I would go through all of that again if it led me to my SLJ!! My SLJ who was too scared too kiss me good night until our third date.

My dating advise:
1. Trust your instincts. If he has quite the feminine flair and makes you question his sexuality... move on.
2. Never set your work associates up on blind dates or double dates. It's a bad, bad idea. Nothing good about it.
3. If your date gets up and goes to the bathroom when the check arrives...move on.
4. If you've specifically said that you'd bring the wine and your date is standing on top of his dryer scouring the cabinets for wine glasses...move on.
5. If your date talks about his ex the whole night...move on.
6. If your date starts giving you dating advise and coaching you on relationships...move on.
7. If your date puts you in a headlock or wants to arm wrestle...move on.
8. If you hear phrases like, "We're having fun aren't we?" or "Let's not label things"... get out quick.
9. Do not sacrifice your morals just to spend one less night alone.
10. Do not settle for anything less than what you want or what you deserve. Just don't. See the whole picture and if it's not what you had in mind... move on.

I'm not saying I'm a dating expert now because I dated a few men. I'm just telling my story and letting you know that we all cry over the train wrecks and that in the end, it seems to be really worth it. Swimming with the sharks seems to get you one hell of a nice catch.

And provides material for a funny story.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

True love

I'm reading a Daniel Steel novel which has ignited a little memory. (Actually a lot of memories, but this one is one I'm willing to share in honor of my babies.)Baby one. I'm trying to remember if I was scared or not. Going into it I felt pretty prepared. I chose not to take La Maze. Breathing like that just seemed silly. I was 17 what did I know? My contractions started as I was lying in bed trying to sleep. I knew this was it. I couldn't get comfortable, I wasn't sleeping, the contractions were pretty regular. I knew the baby one was coming and I was prepared. The nursery was ready. All the little onsies were folded neatly in drawers. My overnight bag was packed and waiting. I got out of bed and began packing a bag for the STBX while he slept soundly. I packed an apple and some money for him. I laid on the couch and started timing my contractions. When they were about 5 minutes apart and still mildly bearable, I called my doctors office and made arrangements to head to the hospital. I woke the STBX up and handed him a change of clothes. Within minutes we were off to welcome our little family. We had to stop at the gas station on the way (some of us were more prepared than others) and by time the STBX came out with the lottery numbers I was ready to get on with the show. I made it clear that I wasn't interested in the lottery numbers and that I was indeed interested in getting to the hospital and having this child. I was all prepared to walk around and get the labor started. I was prepared with books and a tennis ball for my back. Jesus was that all a joke. You want me to move? WTF? All I could do was lay there and pray that this pain would stop soon. Little did I know I had six more hours to go complete with vomitting and severe muscle spasms in my thighs. Sharp, intense, OMG this is the worst pain I ever felt contractions, that seized my entire body every minute. Yes, every minute like clockwork. Upon each contraction I would squeeze the STBX's hand. I wanted to scream at him and tell him I hated him very much for doing this to me, but instead, I told him I loved him. Each contraction he got a half assed "I love you." I wasn't terrified until a point where baby one had dropped down into the canal and the monitor no longer picked up his heartbeat. The stupid nurse said "oh, we lost him." I can imagine the horrified look I gave her because she instantly said, "Just his heartbeat, he moved down, it's okay." I couldn't strangled her for terrifying me like that. It was just me and the STBX. I opted for no other family, I am not one who likes a lot of people around when I'm in pain. Just let me be. I also thought it would be nice just the two of us. I pictured the occasion a lot differently than what it went down. It wasn't romantic or emotional for the STBX like I thought it might've been. But there is the fact that I had just puked all over myself and let my bowels go on the birthing table, so it's pretty hard to be in love and rapture by someone who still has chunks on her gown. No matter, I was still able to be totally in love and rapture by this tiny little man that I could only imagine for the last nine months. After 3 hard pushes, here was this little prince charming that rode in on a white horse. I had never felt love like that.I have to admit though that I wasn't a very comfortable mother. Sure, things do come naturally and I did what needed done, but I wasn't into holding my baby for hours on end. I just didn't know how to be a new mother. It actually took a few years before I felt like his mother and not some stupid teenaged babysitter. I think back now and that little prince charming and I went through some pretty tough times together. Of course he was oblivious to it all. I counted on that little man to help me make it through and he did a fine job. He's now my charming eleven year old who makes me laugh constantly and never refuses my affection in public.
Baby two. The contractions started in Lowes hardware store earlier in the day. Yup, prince charming number two was riding in that night. I wasn't scared at all. After all, all the experts say that on baby two you could expect to cut your labor time and intensity in half. Ha. I didn't think that was a very funny joke after eleven hours of labor. I went into the hospital with contractions a minute apart. 60 seconds isn't long to regain composure. My cervix seemed to be stuck. I wasn't dialating. I kept refusing pain meds because I knew they would wear off quickly. I was glad to see my FIL show up as to keep the STBX occupied. I didn't want him near me this time. I was doing this one completely on my own. I didn't need a hand to squeeze. All I can remember saying is, "I forgot how bad this hurt." Finally, I got some meds to move the labor along. I had a very sweet student nurse who took great care of me. This was to be her first labor and delivery. Again, just a few pushes and viola, prince charming number two entered my world and made me fall in love again. He looked just like prince charming number one. I just couldn't get over the resemblance. I also remember that right after I had delivered number two, another STBMother down the hall crying and screaming. A few tears fell from my eyes because I had just been in her shoes and I wanted to hug her and tell her it would be over soon. Be strong baby girl, we're all pulling for you. I remember little man number one coming to see the latest addition that evening. He could've cared less. Who was this bundle of blankets and what am I supposed to do with him. It was like he didn't exist for the first few months. Little brother who?I was a better mother with prince charming two. I sat with him for hours. I craddled him like a little peanut. It was all just different and I expect it had something to do with my age. Yet still, I was a mere 20 years old. Little man number two was colicy though. He liked to cry all day and forced me to hide my head under the pillow several times. Having a newborn is very hard work. Very hard work. It's exhausting. And I wanted to throw daggers at the MIL and the STBX when they said something derogatory about me not being dressed and showered by 10 a.m. I didn't see their asses rocking the baby back to sleep in the middle of the night. Nope. I clearly remember being in the nursery alone at those hours.
My labor and deliveries were miracles. Nothing can ever take those memories away. My little prince charmings riding in on their white horses to rescue the damsel in distress. What perfect little men they are now. One day, when they witness the births of their own children, they just might understand how much I truly love them. True, unconditional love at it's finest.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Pictures, Dishes and Ghosts

I couldn't stop starring at the damn wall. You see, I had several framed snapshots to hang somewhere. Pics of the kids in their Halloween costumes. Several pics w/ toothless grins and tongues out. Pics of me in the hospital holding my newborn. Pics of kids buried in the sand up to their ears. And one very special large pic that Andi gave me as a present last year way back in 05' before the great move. A very special Yak-Yak pic that she blew up and framed. I've had that pic for over a year now and it never had it's own space on the wall. That is, until now.So I can sit at the kitchen table and look into the other room and see my arrangement of special pictures outlined by the arched doorway in that room. I just couldn't stop starring at the arrangement. It was just another special moment for me as I'm settling into my new life. A perfect place for my Yak-Yak pic that didn't have a place.

The thing that I just can't get over is how generous SLJ is with his space. I worry that I'm "taking over." I worry that one day he'll wake-up, glance around and ask himself what the hell happened to his house. I'm constantly asking him if this or that is okay. And his response is "Do whatever you want. Change whatever you want. As long as I have you, it doesn't matter." He's unbelievable. I even get to remodel the kitchen around my Goodwill antique Mikasa dishes. I know I've told the story of my Goodwill find, but I'll tell it again. Shortly after the STBX and I separated, I started purchasing things that I knew I would need living on my own. I started replacing the things that I had left behind to the STBX. I needed a set of dishes. As I was driving home from work one day I had this "instict" to stop at the Goodwill store and check out the dishes. I walk in to find this complete set of brown and black, scroll work design Mikasa dishes. I was instantly in love with these dishes! I bought the entire set for $20. After I did a little research I found that my entire set is worth around $300. A true find. So I made plans that in my new place I would totally design my kitchen around this set of dishes that I'm in love with. So these dishes were stored in a box for the 10 months I lived with my parents. Once in a while I would unwrap a bowl just to take a peek. Last night SLJ and I talked about the plans to re-do the kitchen. Bye-bye apples, hello Mikasa my love.

I had a complete break down Saturday morning. Not entirely sure what happened, but I'm guessing that what triggered it was SLJ saying something that he'd lost a few lbs. SLJ comes from the same background as I do. Both of us married to people who ripped us apart about our bodies. SLJ has lost a ton of weight since his X. I lost 20 lbs. for my X. We are both very sensitive about our weight. Products of cruel, shallow people. Even though SLJ and I totally dig each others body, we still remain somewhat sensitive. SLJ just said something about him losing a few lbs. and I think I felt a thing apart. I crawled into that little familiar shallow world where my weight matters and it angered me. I went back up to bed and thought about staying there. First I had to figure out why I was crying. So I reviewed my few minutes of the morning and when I came to weight, the tears started flowing. There it was. So SLJ held me for a few minutes, told me I was beautiful, said we should go to the nursery and get some dirt and plants to play with. (He knows I love dirt.) It was still a struggle to want to get out of the bed, but I went. And then as soon as we got back home I crawled back into bed and SLJ played in the dirt by himself. I slept off the breakdown. A couple hours later I was better. Man, that's exhausting hunting down old ghosts and getting rid of them. Whew. I get scared in these situations. I instantly think that I've fell into an abyss again. Just the thought scares me. But then I realize that I'm going to have some tough days. I've been through a hell of a lot in the last year. Major life changes, and I'm going to have some not so good days with those old ghosts. True to form, I always come out swinging.

Things I'm looking forward to:
There's a wedding with SLJ's family this coming weekend. I have a strict no weddings, no funerals rule. Broke both of them this month. I'm actually excited about this wedding though. His family is fun and I'm enjoying getting to know them.

We have to be home by 9:00 though because the finale to "Ultimate Fighter" is on. Of course it would be on at the same time as "Guests of the Ayatollah." Go figure. So I'm recording Guests and watching UF. (Yes, my interests vary. We'll just say that I'm "well rounded." Or crazy. Crazy works too.)

I also get my babies back this coming weekend. The STBX got them earlier and for an extended amt. of time because The MIL is in town and it was Fathers Day and because I'm nice like that. He wanted them for 3 weeks...I'm not that nice. He got them for 10 days. I need my babies.

But I will enjoy my alone time with SLJ this week...

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Making a connection

I often start an entry only to delete what I wrote. I get halfway into it and then, blah, not feeling it anymore. I think about this blog community often. Pretty much daily. I think of how I got hooked and how things have changed and progressed from there. The blog thing perplexes me, but brings me great joy at the same time. I often wonder... why do I blog? Do I use this space as my very own journal? To get my feelings out or to try and organize my thoughts into something of my very own. Do I use this space for creative writing? To keep the juices flowing. Do I use this space to entertain? To reach out to an audience.
What I've come to realize, is that I use this space for all of the above. It's mine. I write what I feel often times. I write from my heart and most times I come up with a great ending that even I didn't realize was there. I write to amuse my audience often times. I like the idea of somebody reading me and thinking good thoughts about me. I also use this space to fill that gulf of loneliness. This is why sometimes I get a little anxious when I have no commenters. (Except Andi, she is my number one freind. I like to read what's on other peoples minds too. But, I think most of all I am here because I have friends here. Here is where I can go, any time of day, to find you. You, the open heart and open ear. I use this space to feel connected. I fit here. I can say whatever it is I want to say and you won't leave me. You are always here.
This space has been here for me through a lot. When I first started blogging in AOL, I was depressed. I was crawling hands and knees out of an abyss that I had been in for two years. This space has been here for me on the lonely days at work and lonely days after separation. This space continues to be here for me through separation and through new found life.
Through this space I stay connected. Andi is so very far away, but through this space I feel like I talk to her and see her often. Through this space I have found some pretty amazing people. People I have never met, but feel like I've known forever. I picture Kris sitting at her desk at work in her hooker boots, drinking bad coffee and giving her boss a hard time. I see Andi walking home from work in her Mary Janes making coo-coo noises to the little Joseys of the world. I see Chuck talking to his bird, drinking his tea and reading some thick ass book on something that would totally warp my brain by someone whose name I can't even pronounce. I see James sitting in his unmade bed w/ his laptop on his lap typing this fabulous story and glancing at the clock every now and then contemplating what time it is in Indiana. Hee. I see Stephanie giving BJ's, I mean going to BJ's and trying on sunglasses. I see Amy in her beautiful birthday suit wondering what word to place in her new poem next. (I MISS YOU AMY)
My mind just kinda skips to the map and places people in their spot. Cali, Nevada, Maryland, Washington, New Mexico. I often wonder what kind of flowers you all have that I can't grow here. What colors you see when you look out your own windows.
I sit here in my lonely space at work. Holding silent conversation with myself all day long. Drinking my coffee from a travel mug. Watching the clock. Waiting to pick up my kids from my friends house after work. Traveling the highway and through amish country home. Waiting to make dinner for my SLJ. Waiting to wrap my arms around him and kiss the dog attack scars on his arm. Our house is an old train station. I have my great grandfathers adding machine on the end table in the living room. We have green bedroom walls and bamboo shades. Above the shades hang a wrought iron bar wrapped lazily in a creamy wrinkly silk fabric. I have my Picasso Gaurnica print above the TV. My six pound boston curled in my lap. Wondering if everyone is as disfunctional and crazy as I am. These are the things I wonder about you. How are we different or similar and why do I care so much for people I don't even know? Will I ever meet you?

This is my connection to a space where I am always found, always free and never alone.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Spring in the village

I feel things deeply. Characteristic of a pisces. And I'm PMSing, which makes for a terrible combination.
There is a season to remember and appreciate life. This is that season for me.

One of my friends dad died a couple of days ago. I felt her pain and loss. I wish I could do more. Thanks to Chuck for referencing "The Prophet" where I found words of peace about death.

"Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

I watched a Discovery channel special on the 2004 Tsunami the other night. Parts of a video where I gasped and my heart felt heavy in my chest. Oh my God.

Today, one of my friends told me his 17 year old daughter was pregnant. I felt that very deeply. Memories flooded my head and my heart sank. But I was able to promise him that everything would be okay.

There are many things about being a 17 year old mother that very few people truly understand. And it can't be explained. You truly walk alone. There is a very instant in time, a nano-second, where you become something different.

I'm thinking back on all the strife and pain that surrounded my 17 year old self. Tons of episodes that flash before my mind. And then I think of recent mornings with my children. Almost 12 years later and here we are: Listening to BEP's and The Killers together. Grossing out the 11 yr. old when I try to educate him on menstration. Sitting in their bedroom putting those damn Imaginext together. Letting my 11 year old grow his hair. Watching them zip around on the
4-wheeler w/ SLJ. Hitting a few golf balls out in the yard. Washing and folding their clothes and arguing about who gets in the shower first.

Point is, life happens and in the end, everything is just how it should be. There is strength and beauty in pain and sorrow.
This is why I laugh when people ask me what my "5 year plan" is.
As if I can control the seasons in my village. I just serve the coffee with a smile.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

writing promt

I'm trying to recall memories. A writing promt. Cause I've deleted several almost entries.

There was this girl in jr. high/middle school who stole my boyfriend Brad. Her name was Nikki. I very much disliked her, but being the Pisces I am... I never made waves. But that's what friends are for right? My best friend Ten, had my back on this one.
Nikki was on the basketball team. Ten and myself were the "basketball assistants." We did things like wash uniforms, get the balls out, keep score, give water bottles etc... We were Water Girls. But mostly we just sat at the edge of the court and made fun of everyone.

Well, Nikki shows up at basketball practice with a black eye. Cool. Wish it had been from me. During practice she asks Ten and myself to go get her a cool wet cloth for her swolen eye. How dare her. So Ten and I go to the locker room where Ten proceeds to get a towel, dip it in the nice cold toilet water. We walked out of the locker room and handed Nikki her nice, cool towel for her big, black, swolen eye (that I should've gave her.) What an evil genius, I swear. All through High School we dubbed her "Pee water."

I could've really used Ten while dealing with the STBX. It's okay, I did take a few notes back then and have put into play a few minor acts of unkindness. Nothing really all that cool like Pee Water, but unkind just the same. Cause we all know, it's the small things that count. Winka.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Why the woman smiled at the mirror

She wanted to feel sexy and beautiful
She looked in the mirror only to find her own form starring back
All she could see was the imperfections
Pale skin
Stretch marks
Cellulite
Pimples
Heat rash
So she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture what it was he saw
She opened her eyes slowly
Smiled kindly at the woman in the mirror
Confidently walked away from it
And became that beautiful woman he sees

She is not beautiful because he says she's beautiful
She is beautiful because she is beautiful

But his unconditional love wraps her in a warmth that she has never felt
And she thanks him for that