Beautiful Ugly

when I was growing up, I was not the pretty girl. I was not the popular girl. I was not the girl that anyone noticed. Three people told me I was beautiful: my mom, my grandma, and my aunt. But that wasn't to say I wasn't okay with who I was and what I looked like. I knew i was never going to be like any of the other girls. I knew I was different. It wasn't until I started growing up and developing that all of that started to change. I remember the first time a boy told me I was beautiful. It wasn't my first boyfriend who tried to change everything about me and for years made me feel insecure about myself. It was the one after him. The one I later grew to hate and not give a shit about. He was the one that did it, when he still loved me. He told me constantly how beautiful I was. Then he broke me. The next one came and he was everything I could've hoped to have. He told me constantly I was beautiful. He held me so dear and he loved me so hard. But there was no communication. and the intimacy wasn't there. eventually, I had been pushed so far, there was nothing left for me to grasp onto. So I left. and I broke him. The next one took me for everything I had. The next one made me believe I could do better. That I need to up the ante on my looks. He told me I was beautiful but when I dressed up and realized it was for something. It was like positive reinforcement. Then he broke me in a way I had never been broken before and from there. I stopped trying. I stopped caring. and then I met you. I knew you cared more than I did and you knew that I was never going to be the woman that tries. But you accepted that, or so I thought. I guess I kind of always figured at some point or another it would come up. And it did. and it made me feel like that was the lack luster in our intimacy. So I picked up the pace. I tried. and all i've ever gotten is "nice". That's it. I am to the point where I think I will most likely never hear you tell me I'm beautiful and maybe that's because you don't think I am. At least, I don't feel like you think I am. Its like talking about my dad all over again. The man couldn't say a nice thing about me if you had him tied to a chair with a gun to his head. Is that you? is that going to be you? are you ever going to finally open up? and if not, am i okay with that? my first answer is no. I'm not. I'm trying to be patient. But I don't want to give all this and then still have nothing change. You have made a lot of steps in the right direction and I credit and appreciate you for it. But I don't think you'll ever understand how it feels to have a complete stranger tell me i'm beautiful and never hear the words slip fro your lips and i'm stuck in the middle of it. I'm trying. But will I ever be beautiful to you? or will i always ever be just "nice"?