I constantly compare myself to others–my friends, the girls I see on the street, even my mom. I set impossible standards for myself and then chastise myself for falling short. No matter what I do, I’m not good enough. I don’t appreciate myself. I’m not pretty enough, not graceful enough, not kind enough, not helpful enough.
I’ve never had eating disorders, or injured myself purposefully. But I tear myself down every day and I don’t believe it when people tell me I’m beautiful.
But I am.
I am beautiful because of my personality. I passionately love other people.
I love my freckles.
I love it when my eyes catch the light and sparkle green.
I love my ability to see differently than any other person in the world. I love the photographs I take and how creative I am.
I love my too-wide smile with crooked teeth.
I love the way I help my friends.
I love the way I show others God’s love.
I love the way my heart years to have purpose.
I am beautiful, and I am learning it, slowly. I am learning to get past thinking my body is not sexy enough, or that I’m a bad friend.
I am learning to accept myself and embrace who I am– because no one on earth is just like me. I am completely unique. This is what makes me beautiful.