I have a Stalker.
At each turn, I feel two eyes on me.
They roam over every inch of my body, drinking in my movements.
As I open my mouth, I’m conscious of a pair of ears perking up, devouring my every word.
Frightened that I might let my Stalker down.
I dread that she’ll see the object of her affection isn’t at all worth her attention.
My little girl is always watching. And I’m all too aware.
Her little head peaks around the doorway when I’m changing. I know she watches me run my hands down my stomach, grimace on my face. I know she hears me wish this piece of me were a little smaller, these a little bigger, this a little firmer, that a little prettier.
My little girl looks up at me, with a face that so resembles my own.
She has my triangle nose, my little mouth, my big teeth.
Her body is just like mine. Strong arms that can hold herself inverted. A sway back that curves and twists at her will. Swift legs that love nothing more than to run with the wind.
She has a mind that absorbs all around her. Laughs when she sees joy. Suffers when she sees pain.
She is beautiful. She is Wild.
I know she is a mini version of myself. She may be fairer, wittier, and overflowing with a great deal more sass. But there is no denying she is mine. That lovely creature that I could stare at for hours is a product of me.
So today, and every day forward, I will take a little extra care to be kind to myself for the sake of my Stalker. I will smile with those big teeth. Run with those swift legs. And Love with that open heart. I will trace my hands over my body and appreciate every inch because I know my girl might be watching. And why not love myself a little while I’m doing it? I am, after all, just like her.
One day, she’ll be a woman, and the most important thing I can impart is self-love. And perhaps that day, she too will find herself worthy of a Stalker of her own making.