How can I tell?

Am I beautiful?

How can I tell?

I could look for the answer in the mirror to see what I need to cover up.

I could give myself a number either off a scale or tag.

I could look at the the beautiful people that surround; compare and see what I should change.

I could starve myself so that I take up less space.

Then I will be beautiful.

Fuck that!

I am the beholder and I choose the measure.

I know I am beautiful.

I see it when I look in my husband’s eyes, I should make him my mirror.

I know when I count the beings comforted by my care and company, I should make this my number.

I can look to my kids and see that they don’t care I’m not like the women on TV, I should make them my source of entertainment.

I will not…