Do you know what it feels like to never be the pretty one? I know that I won’t ever be the most beautiful girl in the room. I never will be. Compliments aren’t easy to accept. It’s always been a hard pill to swallow. I always smile but I always disagree. I can’t understand what it is that anyone sees when they look at me. It’s nothing personal, it’s just when you get told that you’re not pretty or not good enough more times than you can count on two hands, that’s when you start to believe that they are right.
“Don’t believe their words.”
“It’s their hearts that are ugly, not you.”
Looking in the mirror is hard, even harder when I’m naked. I’m my own worst enemy, the little voice in my head hits my confidence with stones and hurtful words. I scrutinise my body, how it is shaped, and the pudgy rolls on my back, stomach and legs. They wide hips and chunky legs. The round face, non-existent ass and small boobs. I look at myself and I see a woman who’ll never know a good love, who will never know what a healthy relationship is while looking like I do.
Self-love is so important, I never understood why it is. They say, we accept the love that we think we deserve, I look back into my past relationships and I agree. I’ve been with people who are so toxic to my physical and mental well-being. They’d put me down, tell me that I’m ugly or that I’m fat. They’d tell me that I will never find anyone who would love me the way that they loved me.
I still feel sick when I look in the mirror and I want to cry, I feel sick seeing what I see. I hate the way I am, the body I’m in and the person that I am. It hurts to admit it to myself. The tears fall down like a stormy day. I grab clothes from the cupboard, I scream at them, throw them on the ground, throwing the makeup from my drawers to the ground. It hurts, I can’t explain the feeling that I feel in my chest almost every day. I can’t see what you see, I can’t see the beauty that you claim that I have. I want to see it but I can’t. I don’t love myself the way that I should. That’s why I can’t let people in because how can someone love you when you don’t even love you.
I look back and I’m glad that I won’t ever find anyone who will love me like they loved me because that wasn’t healthy. They fed into the fire of insecurities and I allowed them to. How do I change that, how do I shut it down?
I need to learn to love myself and be good enough for me. I’ll be working on it, accepting me for me. I will learn to let people in. I need to learn to love myself and be good for me. To hell with the expectations of everyone else.
I’ll be working on me, for me.