self love

There are days when nothing on me looks right. My hair, my smile, my clothes. All of it seems fake, unnatural. Sometimes I just don’t feel right in my own skin. I know everybody experiences days like this, but it is so incredibly important to accept ourselves as we are. 

Sometimes it is hard to look at myself in the mirror. I have to though, because the only person I have around me all the time is myself. Sometimes, I hate the person I see staring back at me. The dark eyes of my reflection bore into me as if they were someone else’s. I feel like a mess somedays, a broken person. I shouldn’t though- nobody should. The truth is, I should be the most understanding person I come across. I am the only person who has had lived my life and experienced what I have experienced. We all face our own challenges, and yet we all pass the harshest judgements on ourselves.

I am incredibly blessed. I have plenty of loving people surrounding me, but what does it all matter if I cannot love myself? I do not need validation from anybody, and creating that for myself is truly the hardest thing I have ever done. In the eyes of some, I may be ‘damaged goods’ . I may be broken beyond repair, and it is hard to get past my fear of that being true. Sometimes I feel as if my core, my soul, is filled with growing weeds that make it hard for me to breathe.

I have to learn to accept my flaws. The lessons I have learned have made me stronger. They have made me a better person. We all have to learn to like the person we see in the mirror. That wide-eyed girl that I see- with the messy hair, the messy life? She is a little rough around the edges, but she is strong. She’s seen a lot and come out the other side. She is soft and compassionate, but she doesn’t back down from a fight. That girl is me. I like all the flaws and the weeds- they are there because of the lessons I’ve learned.

I am not damaged, I am not ruined. I am growing- and I love that.


it is the feeling you get when you completely let go and allow yourself to belong to yourself for the first time. When you look in the mirror and it is just you. Your eyes finally just your eyes. Not the eyes that held them. Your skin finally just your skin. Their fingerprints nowhere to be found. The you that does not have grief resting in their belly, and mourning rotting on their tongue. You are stripped clean of everything that you could not carry the way your heart demanded you to be carried. It is all you. Welcome back. You have been gone for such a while. It is all you. It has always been, all you.

-rupi kaur

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