This is why I love you.

This is why I love you,

because when I lift up my skirt to show you the new stretch marks forming across my thighs–spider webs intertwined with one another–your eyes light up and you see the universe in my thighs. You see planets and bright starry galaxies and a world where anything is possible and everything is beautiful.

 

This is why I love you,

because when I lift up my shirt to show you my growing belly–a mountain growing out of the earth–you see a fortress, a castle, the home caring for your daughter, the vessel making room for change to come and inhabit our lives, something we've longed for for so long.

 

You love me for who I am, what I speak, the things I do and think, the woman I am. You see me not as the world sees me, not how the world makes me see me, but as both your equal and your other half. You see my flesh and my soul, the deepest parts of my being, and you still love me. 

 

I do not entirely recognize this body I live in. It changes each day and aches in new ways. And while sometimes I feel lost in myself and I can only see the new blue veins forming across my chest, you see rivers and setting suns, moons and wild flowers. The moon flickers back in your eyes, and you remind me of who I still am.