"beautiful woman,
you must have been
a beautiful baby too..."
I look at her, as surely every parent does at their own child, and wonder who she will be when she is a woman. And, as surely every parent does, I look at her and I see absolute beauty and perfection. Even when her mouth opens in a plaintive cry, and her little tongue quivers as she expresses her most profound displeasure, I smile (inwardly, in these instances) at her perfection. I really, honestly do.
But I'm also aware that there is a disconnect between what I see now and how she will see herself some day. Will she look in the mirror and think her thighs are fat? Or her cheeks too round? Or her grin too crooked? Will she beat herself up for feeling sad or grumpy or angry or even happy?
Why can't we love ourselves as unconditionally as our parents do (or did, because I suppose at some point even a parent's love grows conditions).
But for now here are some pictures that capture a little bit of what I see in Katy every day.
