NurseSheGirl

October 2, 2026

He tells her she’s gorgeous, he tells her she’s rare,
Like somehow those words prove how deeply he cares.
But compliments sting in a strange kind of way
When the person who gives them still turns her away.

He says that she’s beautiful, swears that it’s true,
But she struggles to see what he claims that he views.
For what good is beauty, admired from far,
When nobody chooses you just as you are.

She flirts and he laughs, then quietly retreats,
And rejection keeps knocking her off of her feet.
She’s learning the sting of extending her hand,
Watching someone gently dismiss where she stands.

And it is so humbling – she’ll give him that much,
To ache for affection, for closeness, for touch.
To hear, “You’re incredible,” then watch someone choose,
To keep their own distance with nothing to lose.

She looks in the mirror and struggles to see
This beautiful woman he insists she must be.
She searches for sexy, for worthy, for rare,
But rejection has whispered, “She isn’t in there.”

She knows that’s not true. She knows that’s not fact.
A heart drawing boundaries is not an attack.
He’s trying to heal from the hurt he’s been through,
And sometimes that healing means not choosing you.

To want her and still not reach out for her skin,
To feel something real without letting her in.
And maybe the hardest thing left to learn
Is desire won’t promise desire returned.

But still she wishes she could look through his eyes,
And see what he sees underneath her disguise.
To believe when he tells her, without needing proof,
That rejection and beauty can both be the truth.

So tonight she’ll be gentle with all she can’t see,
With the woman who’s hurting – the woman who’s me.
Maybe the mirror will soften its view,
And she’ll know she has worth
without someone choosing her too.