¨Mommy?¨ I feel the tug on my sleeve and look down into her innocent blue eyes.

¨Why do the boys never chase me around the playground?¨

It was her first day of third grade.

¨Mommy?¨ She was staring down at her homework laid out on the kitchen table.

¨Do you think I´m pretty?¨

That was the beginning of middle school.

¨Mommy?¨ I was stirring a pot of soup on the stove.

¨Can I try out for cheerleading? Everyone´s doing it.¨

That was in seventh grade.

¨I´m going to start calling you ´mom´,¨ I was driving her to cheer practice.

¨Everyone says mommy is little kid-ish.¨

Eighth grade.

¨Mom, can we go to the store?¨ I furrowed my brow.

¨C´mon, I just want some makeup.¨

Freshman year.

¨Mom, why can´t I get a boyfriend?¨ I looked into her still-innocent eyes and all I could do was hug her.

Junior year.

¨Mom,¨ She had woken me up with a late-night phone call. I didn´t mind. Her voice was thick with tears.

¨Why do I have to change in order for people to like me?¨

Freshman year of college.

I was speechless. I didn´t have an answer when she was in third grade, and I sure didn´t have one now.

She awakens each morning unaware of the truth, goes to the mirror and applies her concealer.

She must hide her shame, wash the pain from her eyes.To the world she is perfection, an unwavering disguise.

You will never see the ghosts she hides inside bottles. You can’t see the scars and the lies that she’s carved.

Hidden in her skin lives every sin and mistake, a painful reminder to never let down her gates.

If she could only see the truth, those walls would crumble. Every stripe she has earned is the mark of a warrior.

Her strength is incalculable, far beyond my comprehension. Her beauty is a blinding light, a beam of pure ascension.

She is not perfection. She is no god to be worshipped, nor would she want it. Her desires are much more simple.

She seeks to be seen, to love and be loved in return. To let go and give in, without fear of a burn.

She has won my heart and all the love I have to give. I can only hope one day she will see me and accept it.

So I’ll wait here, just outside the castle walls, until truth smashes through and you realize,

You. Are. Beautiful.

In every stranger I see your face,

Your voice still comforts me on the darkest nights.

They say to forget it, and to move on,

But I never want to forget you.

Why did you leave me in this cruel world alone,

I´m left to fight the battle on my own.

The pain of missing you grips me at random times,

It demands to be felt

The way you demanded to be heard.

You were my light in this world,

Now it´s slowly growing dimmer and dimmer.

What’s the point?

What’s the point of painting on a face,

Of wearing revealing clothes,

Of trying to be skinny

Of posting provocative pictures on Instagram,

Of trying to fit in,

& trying to be liked,

Because who cares?

Who the heck cares?