My hair isn’t naturally straight and sleek, it’s frizzy and unruly.
My skin isn’t flawless and bright, it’s uneven and scattered with blemishes.
My stomach isn’t flat and toned, it’s soft and sticks out a bit after I eat.
My boobs are not big and plump, they are small and perky.
My ass is not perfectly rounded and firm, it divots in on the sides and I have a birthmark that looks like smudged dirt.
The hair on my arms is not light and short, it is long and dark.
My eyes and brows are not even and swell with purple veins when I don’t get enough sleep, which is always.
My lips are not full and pouty, my top lip is thin and disappears when I smile and my bottom sticks out too much.
My teeth are not straight and shiny they are crooked on the bottom and I’m missing one that never grew in the side of my mouth.
I don’t like my hair line and get frustrated when I can’t fix my hair up the way other girls can because my baby hairs don’t lay like theirs and I have hairs above my ears that stick out too much.
My body is scarred and I’m too short and clumsy to walk a runway.
I have fat in places I don’t want it and not enough in others, I pick myself apart and judge every angle.
Some days I want to crawl out of my skin because of the things I was born with and the things I will never have.
Social media shows me a picture of what I should be and what I am not.
I worry that the boy I’m seeing tonight will want to undress me and that he will see me the way I see myself.
I fear that the girl who thinks she’s better than me will see these insecurities through my eyes and laugh about them.
When people stare at me in public I wonder which of my flaws they are judging.
Never does my anxiety, fear and self loathing stop until I take a deep breath and remember that beauty is not the image on my screen and it’s not the girl with the long blonde hair. It’s everything.
Beauty is the flowers that are clean and well-kept and it’s the wildflowers that are covered in mud.
Beauty is wearing your hair natural, whether that’s straight, curly, wild, frizzy or wavy. Or taking hours to style it the way that makes you feel good. Beauty is wearing a full face of makeup, being bare faced and everything in between.
Beauty is loving yourself and doing what makes you feel good and not giving a fuck about what anyone else has to say about it.
The things you pick yourself apart for, the things you wish you could trade for something better, those are the things that make you perfect.
So smile at yourself in the mirror and say I love you. You’re beautiful.
Stand up straight with your head up.
Own your shit and be confident.
Respect your body and never tolerate anyone who doesn’t.
Be kind to the girls that think they’re better than you and who are cruel. They’re like that because they’re jealous and nobody told them they didn’t have to be.
It’s not easy. There is no magical switch in your brain that turns your insecurities off and confidence and self-love on.
Some days will be easy, some hard and on others you may fail completely and those thoughts will bubble up to fill your head again. That’s okay.
There are ups and downs and by no means do I have it mastered but life is all about learning and the scars that come with it.
So, I’ll wake up tomorrow and maybe feel a wave of depression or a lift of happiness or perhaps nothing at all, but I will look in the mirror regardless and say, I love you. You’re beautiful. Because I don’t need anyone else to.

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