Yesterday I walked into my bedroom to get ready for bed and my husband, already lying in bed, said “hello beautiful”. It made me smile like I was a little girl again. It’s not like he doesn’t tell me I’m beautiful normally because he does, so I’m not sure why this time affected me so differently. But I realised I believed him. In that moment, for no apparent reason, I decided I believed him. For one moment, my brain took a break from telling me I’m ugly, and let another idea take root. I still feel the echo of it now, but I have no idea how long it will last. I will enjoy it while it is here.
Generally I despise the weight society places on physical attractiveness and the standard to which women are held, and ruthlessly too. But there’s no denying that it makes a difference to be told you’re beautiful. It makes you feel good. Because even if it shouldn’t be important, there’s no getting around the fact that to most people it is. I hate the way I look most days. But today, I feel beautiful. All because my brain let me believe my husband’s words yesterday and I have no idea why. But I’m not complaining. Every girl deserves to feel beautiful. And I believe every girl is.