Four months after they were married, she started to cover all the mirrors in the house. 

Those too large to cover, she destroyed. 

One day he came home to find her pulling shards of glass from her palms. 

The broken mirror lay on the floor of their bedroom and he saw their shattered union reflected in a thousand puzzle pieces. 

A thousand husbands comforting a thousand wives.

She didn't want to look at herself. 

Compared to the women outside, she was nothing.

She was hard where they were soft, small where they were large, angular where they were rounded, lacking where they were full. 

She wouldn't pose for pictures. 

He let her do as she wished. 

She broke the mirrors. 

He let her do as she wished. 

She replaced all the marble furniture with cheap wooden replacements. 

He let her do as she wished. 

She asked him to close his eyes whenever they made love. 

He said 

no. 

He said no, you can avoid the pictures. you can break the mirrors you can remove the marble monuments we bought together and replace them with the wooden furnishings of your insecurity but when I love you you must let me see you for who you are don't let the pictures, don't let the mirrors, don't let any reflection tell you if you are beautiful or not they aren't alive they cannot feel your hands they cannot feel - 

Let me tell you. 

Every day. 

Let me tell you. 

Let me. 

And finally, finally 

she let him do as he wished.