"You are beautiful", she said to me
I couldn't help but stare at her as if she had spoken another language
I hesitated to respond because how do I when I don't see what she sees, I grew up being told that I was made up of flaws
No one ever stopped to tell me "good job"
"Keep it up"
From the time I was young I was always told to try harder
Do better
Because no matter how hard I try it's only ever going to just be enough to get by
They always seemed to pick out my flaws one by one
The spaces between my teeth
My thick thighs
The scars that cover my wrists
I was never told that I was beautiful, I was only ever taught that I was not
I had too much wrong with me, there was no chance of it
So as I grew older that's what I believed
I was not beautiful
I was not beautiful
I was not.