The Day I Realized I’m Beautiful

One of the boys. That was the identity I conformed to since I was a teenager. 

But deep inside that boyish nature, I fantasized for a Prince Charming to come and tell me I’m beautiful, make me feel like a woman… because I didn’t feel that way. 

However I didn’t notice that people do appreciate my beauty. 

When someone would tell me that I look beautiful, I would shrug them off and laugh. 

Until a friend told me to just say thank you and accept the compliment graciously. 

Since then I stopped my automatic programming of shutting off compliments.

It was only when I turned 32 years old that I saw myself as beautiful. 

I didn't change my face but I saw that I really am beautiful. I appreciated the person I see in the mirror, regardless of any blemishes and imperfections. I wore womanly clothes and walked like a woman, so I felt like a true woman. 

I am beautiful and I am a woman.

I realized I didn’t need someone else to tell me the truth. 

Because I won’t believe anyone else if I don’t believe it first.