Maybe she’s not showing off. Maybe she just showed up–exactly the way she is, with no care to prune herself back for you, or anyone. Because that would be a show.
Leave her alone.
She deserves to fill the exact space she naturally inhabits, however much that may be, no more and no less. She deserves the space she fills, and you deserve the space you fill. No more, except when you laugh that one way, and no less.
Maybe…she’s pretty. And maybe, in the traditional sense, she’s not. The sorter of your mind will categorize her. It’s already sorted you, after all, and she will bounce off of that wall, and you will bounce back off of her, and she will return off of your idle thoughts, and collisions hurt.
Don’t say she’s pretty. Don’t say she’s not. Don’t say she’s fat. Don’t say she should eat a sandwich. Don’t say she’s beautiful. Try…how is she pretty? And how is she pretty? And how is she strong? And how is she unique? How is she whole, and human, and full of stories and sadness and laughter?