Get up, right now, and go stand in front of a mirror. Don't change. Don’t put on makeup. Don’t brush your hair. Just go.

Look at yourself; what do you see?

I'll tell you what I see when I look at myself:

I see my torso, bottom heavy, like myself. Tiny rolling hills cast shadows on the miniature valleys that rest on my tummy delicately carved from my ribs. The hills fade into what could be mistaken for a 12 week baby bump after a large meal… Or any meal.

I see my thighs, big and squishy. They peek out from under the hem of my dresses like a child that peeks around the corner after making a mess; sad and defeated. Stretch marks line the inside, running deep like riverbeds.

I see my arms, untoned and covered in hair (thanks, genetics). I can trace blue green veins for miles down to a cluster of small craters from the eczema of dermatology past.

I see my eyes, wide and tired. Potholes underline my eyes, almost drawing the attention away from the fact that they are uneven - almost.

I see the fat on my chin, the brown marks on my back, and the curves in places there simply shouldn’t be curves.

I see split ends on a girl who's always at her wit's end and hang nails on someone who doesn't ever know how to hammer a nail without hurting herself.

I see stress pouring out my ears and a patched up heart pumping blood through a walking train wreck.

I see me: unfiltered, imperfect, and a disappointing try-hard in comparison to the rest of the girls on campus.

But the me I see is a raw image. It hasn't been molded by years of shared tears and smiles. It hasn’t been altered by reactions to my sassy tongue or my punny comebacks. It hasn’t been changed by memories or fights. The me in the mirror is the only me I get to see, and it's purely physical.

But my body, my hair, my size, and my unpainted fingernails are not all that I am. They don't define my beauty.

I didn't realize it until now, but you don't get to see yourself in your most beautiful moments. You can't see the fire in your eyes when you stand up for what you believe in. With your eyes closed and head thrown back, you can't see your laughter fill a silent room with electricity. You don't get to watch your chest rise rhythmically through the night while your mind wanders to distant places. You don't know the magical way sun shines through your hair at noon and cascades across your cheeks at dusk. You can't see the hope you instill in a friend when you hold them and tell them that everything is going to be OK. You don't feel the brilliant aura you give off in a room of strangers that makes them turn their head. Even in your darkest times, you're still a heavenly sight when your hair is disheveled and tears are rolling down your warm cheek. Moreover, you don't see how amazing you are because you have memorized every one of your imperfections. From surface blemishes to deep rooted emotional issues, you know it all too well. To you, you're near worthless, but to someone who loves you, you're priceless.

So next time you look in the mirror, look at the you the world sees. Appreciate the crinkles on the corner of your eyes and the lines around your mouth from years of belly laughs and flirtatious smiles. Love the sun scars, for they are reminders of long sweltering days on the beach in the glorious sun surrounded by family. Enjoy the roughness in your hands because they spent years holding the people you love the most and picking yourself up after you fell.

The flaws you see screaming for attention in the mirror are nothing more than near inaudible whispers compared to the exquisite soul that illuminates the lives of anyone lucky enough to be graced with your presence, if only for a fleeting moment.