I came out of my room one day and was unprepared for my daughter’s reaction.

“Mom, seriously …” One eyebrow went up as she surveyed my outfit.

“What?” I looked down and didn’t see what the fuss was all about.

“That shirt…” she rolled her eyes in mock horror. “You’re gonna wear that in public?”

I glanced down at the offending apparel. Across the shirt, boldly emblazoned, was the word “FLAWLESS” in big, unapologetic letters.

“He-he-he,” I answered sheepishly. “Well, Theron thinks I’m flawless, ” was my lame excuse.

“Umm, yeah. Of course. He’s your husband. He has every right to be blind about you.”

Touché. I thought about changing into something else, but then, I shrugged my shoulders and said, “It’s just a shirt,” and headed out the door.

Emboldened by the steady stream of compliments of a smitten albeit “blind” husband, I stepped out of my house, brimming with confidence , defying the world to question my flawlessness.

But as the day went by, my confidence ebbed. Try as I could to hush it, this little voice inside me would not be ignored.

“Beloved, for sure. Awesome, maybe. Flawless? Aw, come on! That’s pushing it, don’t you think ?”

It nagged on and on and chipped away at my inner Beyoncé, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to call my husband. I ‘fessed up everything, from my daughter’s reaction to my initial defiance and finally, my acceptance that (gasp!) I was undeserving of the shirt. All this told in full melodramatic effect…

He responded as any loyal spouse would. “I don’t see what the fuss is all about. To me, you ARE flawless. Everyone else pales in comparison. You are my Miss Universe. You should wear that shirt everyday and tell everyone that your husband approves it.” Ngek! As you can see, if I need a reality check, he is obviously not the one I should run to.

So, if you ever come across somebody with the audacity to wear a “Flawless” shirt in public, don’t judge. She may not be a 10 to you, but somewhere, somehow, she is somebody’s idea of perfection. I know I am.

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