When I was fifteen my sister brought a male friend home with her. He became a family friend and visited often. He would look at me and say, "You are so beautiful". At the time the only person who had ever told me that was my mother, and I think she said it out of obligation. I thought he was just teasing, so I would cry because i didn't believe him. He was being cruel, I knew otherwise, I knew I wasn't beautiful. He would whisper it in my ear everytime he came to visit. I would react by crying, telling him to shut up, blushing, or all three. I did not understand why he did this to me, why he felt the need to hurt me by saying this. Over a year past and still i reacted with anger and hurt, but secretly I began to look at myself in the mirror for hours. I would look at my reflection trying to find what he saw, what made me beautiful to him. Slowly, I started noticing myself, my small shapely lips, my dark eyes, my sprinkled freckles, my smooth skin, my even brow, my beauty. One day he came to visit, and the first thing he said was, "Have I told you how beautiful you are?". I hit him and frowned. He asked me if it really bother me when he said I was beautiful, I said yes, he asked me if I wished him to stop saying it, I nodded. He looked at me in the eyes and i felt like I was naked, as if he could see right through me. He said, "I will never tell you how beautiful you are again...but I want you to know that is exactly what I am thinking everytime I see you". He kept his word and now when I look in the mirror I know how beautiful I am.