And I hope you find her. Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.
About 15 years ago, this soft-spoken, homeless guy used to hang around the coffee shop where I worked in Santa Cruz. One day he showed up looking a touch less dissheveled but kind of "uncomfortable" with himself--still had greasy hair, ratty clothes, and that certain eau de unbathed, but I guess the difference was that he suddenly seemed acutely aware of his appearance.
I took a coffee out to him and asked what was going on. He shyly explained that he had a new girlfriend(who was also homeless.) He was seeing himself through her eyes, and he wasn't sure he liked what she saw. He recited this poem he wrote about it, and it's stuck with me ever since:
"It's hard to be beautiful on the streets,
Without sleep,
Keeping our eyes open at night, dirty hands and
dirty feets."
An ode to dirtbag-dom if ever I've heard one. He was a beautiful person.