For the first time in my entire life I feel beautiful. I’ve been full of insecurity since I can remember. There has always been something to hate, to wish away, to hyper-focus on. In this state of mind compliments are irrelevant and somewhat offensive. In an act of self preservation, I’ve developed this habit of allowing complementary sentiments to roll off my back. Devoid of all meaning. Anything to maintain the narrative of “less than.”
Being a woman is unique in this way. Is unique in the self hate. I spent a lot of time hating and comparing. Covering my nose, neglecting my smile. It’s a form of obsession. The worst kind.
But today I feel beautiful. I am in love with myself. I don’t care that I have big feet or more body hair than my blonde friends. I don’t feel insecure about my existence. I am confident, bold.
The level of sensuality this opens up for me is new and exciting.
I feel new and exciting.
Music sounds better, Art feels more powerful, words and their resonance have a new effect. I am eager to see where this takes me. Who I become. I am happy to know who I am, moreso every day.
I am infinite and complex. I am a mirage with a steady foundation.
I allow myself to be.
This is freedom.