She Is Beautiful

This is an adaptation of a text by a French author, Vincent Lahouze. It speaks of how a woman, as she ages, too often looks at herself (particularly her body) in a totally different way than the man in their life sees her. There is a lesson to be learned here, ladies. We don’t see you the way your tend to see yourself…

I look at her, she is naked. I say, you are beautiful. She shakes her head, answers me, you’re crazy, you’re blind, no, I’m not beautiful, no.

She says take a good look at this body, I don’t like my boobs, I don’t like my butt, I don’t like my belly, I don’t like, I have stretch marks, wrinkles, dark circles under my eyes, some grey hair, she says, take a good look, what can you really love, what can you really want, on me, I don’t understand.

If she only knew. If she could see herself as I see her, if I could become her mirror, her reflection, her shadow, for a moment. She would understand, perhaps, a little, just a little. I look at her, she is naked, and I repeat, that you are beautiful.

Because I don’t see what she sees. It’s not just a body. It is a country, a continent, a planet, what am I saying a planet, it is an entire Universe. I am an explorer-astronaut, in search of seventh heaven.

Her moles are so many stars that I like to count at night, before falling asleep.

Her stretch marks are waves, which carry me away, when I surf on her skin.

Her wrinkles are proof that she laughs, that she cries, that she thinks constantly, that she is rocked by her emotions and that she is more moved as a result.

Her dark circles are the proof that our nights are more beautiful than your days, that even in our dreams, our bodies combine envy and desire, to never to separated.

I like to kiss her, she is the perfect size for my lips.

It was her destiny to be the target of our love, simply, thank you Cupid.

Her belly gave life, how could I hate it, even if these children are not mine, her tummy is a temple, I cherish it, admire it, venerate it, because that’s also what loving each other is, it’s seeding, and seeing life, growing. Her breasts nursed, no matter if they don’t defy the law of gravity, they nursed little human beings. Just at this image, I shiver.

To hell with society and your photoshopped bodies, on glossy paper, in your news feeds. I look at her, she is naked, and she is Beautiful.