I don't want my looks to be the thing that attracts you to me. I am more than my looks: I am my brain, I am my hands, I am the books that I read, the shows that I watch, the tea that I love, I am the way I make my coffee. there's more to me, than my outward appearance.
I'll know it's you, when you call me beautiful, but I know you don't mean it outwardly. I know that you'll mean it, because you'll see me – you'll see my heart for Christ, my heart for loving others in the midst of their pain – you'll see me.
I don't want you to say I'm beautiful, because I want you to see the blood, sweat and tears that I put into building myself, and this life, exactly how I want to it to be. you'll understand, you'll get me, because it's been the very same for you; and I'll see that, I'll see it the way you see me.
I don't want you to so say I'm beautiful, because I'm both strong and weak; I am my limited self, in this human body. I am not my outward beauty, I am who the One who made me has called me to be. I'll be her, I am her, and you see that within me. you'll see that, when you look at me the first time we meet. it won't take you a week, a month, or a year to realise. you'll see it, when you see me.
please, don't say I'm beautiful, because when you do, you limit me,
you limit the person that I am.