I try to accept myself for the way I look. I try to see myself as unique and beautiful in my own way. Sometimes I fail.
Then I remember: in his eyes I am beautiful.
In his eyes, I sing the best songs ever. I can make magical things appear out of my bag. I can turn any activity - like taking off clothes - into a silly song and game.
In his eyes I am there to carry him when he is tired and kiss him when he hurts. I make food magically appear when he needs it and join him in dancing to the ring of a cell phone.
When he looks at me, he sees no flaws, no marks that don't belong there, nothing that makes me less than whole.