Dear Wife: You're Not Just Hot, You're Beautiful

Dear Wife,

In my twenties I looked for hot. Like most of my friends, my ideal woman had certain measurements. Magazines and television had programmed me to think that 36-26-36 was the only true beauty. Long legs, hair blowing in the wind, short skirts...that was the prize.

I'm not going to lie, the first thing I noticed about you wasn't exactly your smile. Those jean cut-offs that summer drew me in like a bee to honey.

Then I got to know you and that smile would be what I'd do anything to make curl up across your face. It sparkles.

Flash forward many years and a couple of babies.

I see you walk quickly past mirrors and make comments about how much you hate this or that but there's something I want you to know.

You are absolutely, unequivocally, stunning. And this time it has nothing to do with those jean cutoffs buried in our basement somewhere.

Your womanly body was the first home for my child and I love every single inch of it.

That stomach. The stomach you're convinced needs to be sucked and tucked. That stomach gave us our entire life and when I look at it, the gentle roundness, the curves, the lines that formed as our children grew and stretched you, I'm in awe of you. I watch our little ones hands and heads rest on its soft warmness and fall in love with you over and over again. 

Your breasts fed my babies. What woman on Earth can compete with that? Not one. You already know I'm more than slightly obsessed with them.

The way your eyes light up when our children laugh makes me wish we could have an eternity together because it's the closest thing to magic I've ever seen.

If only you could see the way your face shines in the light of your babies' laughter. No creme, foundation powder, or trendy blush could ever replicate the glow you have when they lay on your chest.

I'm not sure you notice but I check you out constantly. I sneak peeks of you, I sneak grazes of my hand against your body and snuggles in the hall. I'll take whatever you'll give me and consider it a privilege.

Wife, please don't believe the magazines.

True beauty isn't a photoshopped woman in 4-inch heels selling lipstick.

They have no idea what true beauty is.

I've seen it.

True beauty is you.

love, your husband

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