S: Do you think I'm pretty?

M: I don't have to, it's pretty obvious that you are

S: If you were to rate my beauty on a scale of 1-10, what would it be?

M: A 20 duhh, you're so pretty you broke the scale. I wish to be like you soo much, you're soo damn perfect.

S: Well I have one question to ask you but I need you to promise that you'll tell me the honest truth

M: ...

S: Can I ask?

M: Go ahead I guess

S: Do you think you're pretty?

M: You tell me, I have a funny face shape, my brows are imperfect and my lashes so short they're almost invisible. I have imperfect vision and my ears are elf-like. My head sits on my neck in a very weird way and my arms are too big. My breasts are awfully small and my tummy too big. My legs look like a warrior's and my feet are enormous...

S: I'm going to stop you right there

M: But I wasn't done describing the ball of imperfection that is me.

S: That's because it does not exist

M: You think I'm perfect?, that's ridiculous 

S: I never said that, but I do know that you were created in the image of God.

M...

S: I also don't understand how you can call yourself the most perfect girl you've known one minute and an ugly list of untrue characteristics the next.

M: I never called myself perfect.

S: You called ME perfect.

M: That's because you are!!!

S: You really don't know who I am do you?

M: I know you're a beautiful work of art.

S: Other than that?

M: Well we just met so nothing much really.

S: Interesting.

M: What?

S: Nothing.

M: No, tell me.

S: You called me perfect.

M: Because you are.

S: You have known me for less than an hour.

M: And?

S: And you know what I find interesting?

M: What?

S: You have managed to find so many beautiful things about me without asking a single question.

M: Because they're obvious.

S: Yet you needed a whole list to explain why you aren't beautiful.

M: That's different.

S: How?

M: Because I know myself.

S: Do you?

M: Yes.

S: Do you know me?

M: Not really.

S: Tell me something about me.

M: I just told you I don't know you that well.

S: No. Tell me something you know.

M: You're beautiful.

S: That's what you see.

M: Isn't that enough?

S: Apparently not.

M: What is that supposed to mean?

S: You have been looking at me since we met, but you have not once asked why I look familiar.

M: Familiar?

S: My face.

M: What about it?

S: My eyes.

M: What about your eyes?

S: My brows.

M: ...

S: My lashes.

M: Wait.

S: My ears.

M: You're doing that on purpose.

S: My arms.

M: Stop.

S: My hands.

M: I said stop.

S: My legs.

M: They're not yours.

S: Aren't they?

M: No.

S: Then whose are they?

M: I don't know.

S: You do.

M: ...

S: You described every single one of them to me a few minutes ago.

M: That's different.

S: You keep saying that.

M: Because it is.

S: Then why do I have your crooked brows?

M: ...

S: Why do I have your short lashes?

M: ...

S: Why do I have your funny face shape?

M: You're a shadow.

S: Exactly.

M: Shadows don't have faces.

S: Then why have you spent all this time telling me mine is beautiful?

M: I...

S: You have been calling me perfect for the parts of me that are yours.

M: No.

S: You think I have your arms because you think they are beautiful when they belong to me.

M: That's not what I said.

S: You think my stomach is perfect because you have never called it yours.

M: Stop.

S: You think my legs are graceful because you have never described them as a warrior's.

M: Please.

S: You think my body is art because you have spent years convincing yourself that yours is a collection of mistakes.

M: I don't...

S: You do.

M: ...

S: You don't hate beauty.

M: Then what do I hate?

S: You hate anything that reminds you of yourself.

M: That's not true.

S: Then why are you always more willing to believe that I am beautiful than that you are?

M: Because you're not me.

S: Look at me.

M: I am looking at you.

S: Really, look.

M: ...

S: There is no me without you.

M: What?

S: I only appear when you do.

M: ...

S: I move when you move. I stop when you stop. I carry every shape you make and every flaw you think you have.

M: Then why do I see you as perfect?

S: Because you gave me everything you refused to give yourself.

M: ...

S: You made me beautiful by taking everything beautiful about you and putting it somewhere else.

M: That's not fair.

S: Neither is the way you speak about yourself.

M: I don't know what you want me to say.

S: I don't want you to say anything.

M: Then what do you want me to do?

S: I want you to notice.

M: Notice what?

S: That you have spent all this time trying to become someone you could love, when you have been standing beside yourself all along.

M: ...

S: You don't need a different face.

S: You don't need smaller arms, bigger breasts, a flatter stomach, longer lashes or a different head on your neck.

S: You need to stop deciding that anything imperfect cannot be beautiful.

M: And you think that's enough?

S: No.

M: Then what is?

S: Maybe the real question isn't whether you're beautiful.

M: What is it then?

M: What am I supposed to see when I look at myself?

Gen 1:27. So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.

2 Corinthians 3:18. But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.