My Husband Thinks I am Pretty

I found a note one morning, a couple of weeks ago, stuck to my bathroom mirror. It was from my husband. It said, "You are beautiful. I love you."

It's funny, when you think about it. It was just a little note on a heart-shaped piece of paper, stuck to the bathroom mirror. It's funny, how something so simple could mean so much.

My husband thinks I am pretty.


He is the first one to tell me I look nice. He tells me he likes my hair, my new outfit.

Even on days I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and wear my jeans and flip flops, he tells me I am pretty.

Sometimes I laugh. I think it is absurd. I look in the mirror and see a tired, frazzled, frumpy, highly imperfect person and yet my husband thinks I am pretty. How can that be?

I have quit trying to figure it out. I have quit accusing him of being dishonest. I just relish in the fact that my husband thinks I am pretty.

There is an incredible security in that.