These Eyes Upon Me

These eyes gaze upon me and they see everything that I don't want them to see, let alone anyone else. They see me, inside and out. They see me exposed, they see me covered. They see me in my every moment of weakness and in my every moment of strength. These eyes start from the top. They see my hair. It has roots growing in, I should dye it again. It looks messy, I didn't get to straighten it the way I wanted to this morning. It just wasn't coming out right. It's getting too long for me to handle. Ugh my hair, maybe I should let it keep growing, I mean it does look a bit nice the way it flows. At least it's shiny and not dull.

Then those eyes migrate to my face. I broke out. I have blemishes and dark spots everywhere. At least I look better than what I did a week ago, even two weeks ago. That was just embarrassing. Bad acne, it was terrible. Now just to get those dark spots. Don't smile, your teeth could be whiter. My face is bare, not an ounce of make-up. I knew I should have at least put on eyeliner and mascara. Or even some foundation, then these dark spots wouldn't be so bad. Please don't look at my face much longer. Oh dear, what's next?

My upper body. I have tattoos, yes I know. Don't judge me on them, they have meaning. Yes that's one on my chest. And yes, it's a dragonfly, so what. I plan on adding more to it anyway. I should cover my boobs, I don't want these eyes to see my scar. My scar, from my surgery. Still doing fine, thankfully. Although I get the occasional pain. I heard that comes with any surgery though. Then there's that birthmark. It had to be this one light skin patch in the middle of my chest. I wish my neck wasn't so boney. I look skinny. Except my stomach, it's not as flat as I want it to be. I'm still working on that. Summer six pack is my goal, are you finished yet? Not sure how much more I can endure.

My lower body...ok good, these eyes are almost done staring. I feel like I've just been examined from head to toe, well ok I have been. My legs are nothing to brag about. I have wide hips for a girl my height. Let's face it, I'm Hispanic, hips were bound to happen here. My thighs are a bit chunky, not toned, but those are getting there too. I have scars on them also, but that's because I was a bit more of an outdoor kid, which brings me to my knees...yep, banged up and dry, with a big scar of where I scraped myself running. I hit the concrete pretty hard that day. I remember that cut too. It hurt bad. That scar never went away. Thank goodness I shaved today, at least my legs are smooth. My calves are kind of toned. That's because I have a job where I'm mostly standing. But then there's the fact that I come home and dance to my music. I also used to dance at my family parties. You get good tone if you can dance some salsa and merengue. Thank you mom for that one. You're pretty much done there right? I mean my feet? They're small. I have little toes too. I need a pedicure, but I mean it hasn't exactly been open toe shoe weather. Stop staring, you're killing me.

These eyes upon me, looking at every detail of my body. Examining me, breaking me down, wearing on my soul, judging me...these eyes, they're my own. And if this is how I feel about myself sometimes, how is it that he can call me beautiful? How is it that he can see every inch of me, see me pre-op, post-op and not care? How is it that he can say everytime he sees me that I still look amazing? He'll never know the comfort he gives me, the self-esteem he gives a boost, the eyes that overanalyze, are trying to see what he sees. He sees me, and at the end of the day, if he can still sit there and tell me I'm awesome, and tell me that I'm amazing, then maybe these eyes, are blind to what's really there. Show me the way....show me your way. Show me, the me that you see. She sounds beautiful <3