I was thinking about you both last night. How you appear so self-confident and sure of yourselves. How you project this flippant, carefree, secure image to the world. How, when I met you, you both seemed invincible, like higher beings: role models. Strong, comfortable women.

But as I got to know you better, I realized something: you aren't. Neither of you.

Sera, the first time I met you, I was struck by your beauty. Your clear blue eyes, your auburn hair, your real, feminine body. I remember our first conversation, sitting in the tiny office in the hospital, our legs propped up on the doctors' chairs. We talked intently and seriously for hours that evening, and I discovered your intelligence, your social consciousness, your open-mindedness. You were so down-to-earth and honest. I was smitten. I couldn't believe you were real.

And Brittany, I fell in love with you, too. Everyone was right; you do look like me: petite, curvaceous, big-eyed and short-haired (yours was blue at the time.) You were unique; you stood out from the crowd and seemed to enjoy it. I was shy around you at first, but I soon got comfortable. You were confident, beautiful, easygoing, hilarious, and intelligent. Again, I couldn't believe my luck.

But we got closer. More comfortable talking to each other. And I discovered things about you both.

Neither of you love who you are. I can't figure it out. When you look in the mirror, when you listen to yourselves talk, do you see/hear the same things I do? Sera, you think you're a fat, gap-toothed, groaty-haired bitch with dark circles under your eyes. And Britt, you think you're fat and ugly and unlovable; so much that you're constantly asking Rach if I really like you or if I think you're incredibly annoying.

The truth is, I love you both. Adore you. Want to be near you; want to know you better and spend time with you. It hurts to hear how much you hate yourselves. I have my own issues, of course, with my body and my character. We're women; we all know that feeling of worthlessness and self-loathing. But I have never realized how truly grotesque and painful it was until I saw two extraordinarily gorgeous, creative, genuine, and wonderful people constantly put themselves down and despise what makes them who they are.

I know that I can't make you comfortable in your own skin. I can't make you love yourselves. I can't do anything except reassure you. And I know that doesn't help. I know my love and support and reassurance isn't enough - it's not even enough for me most of the time, forget two other people. But I needed to write this letter to tell you that, because I am just now coming to recognize the effects of society and the media on women. We shouldn't have to know the feeling of inadequacy and self-hatred. But we do.

So, my Sera and my Brittany... I'm glad that we're friends. I'm glad we're getting to know each other better. I hope that maybe someday you'll see yourselves for what you are, and not what the world wants you to believe that you are. I hope someday that I can do that, too. I love you. You deserve to be happy.

Always,