The look I carried

Yes, of course I noticed. I noticed the way you looked at me when I wore that cropped shirt. I saw your eyes linger, Mother. I saw you looking at my body, at my stomach. And I know it. What I don't know is whether you know that I know. That look stayed with me. It made me sad. It made me wonder. What were you thinking when you looked at me like that? I felt your gaze measuring, observing, searching for something beneath my skin. Maybe you looked for flaws. Maybe you looked out of worry. Maybe you looked without thinking at all. But I noticed. And ever since, I've been carrying that look inside my head.