Have you ever looked in the mirror and hated what you saw?
Looking at that reflection all you see is an overflowing waistline and tree trunks for legs. You see double chins and empty eyes framed by flat, yet somehow frizzy hair. You see and you vow to go on a diet because that will make you look like all of those magazine covers. And somehow looking like that will make you happy.
All you’ve ever wanted was to be happy.
So you put aside all of the foods that you’ve sought comfort in. You eat salads and exercise regularly.
You bust your ass trying to get your hips to deflate, but when you get back on the scale it hasn’t budged.
Not even an inch.
Weeks go by of the same thing and, even though you’re doing everything right, the results never come through.
You see all of these other girls in their little bikinis and body-con dresses and you tell them how great they look, how beautiful they are, because it’s true.
And they’re happy.
And your stomach turns with jealousy, but you smile anyway. When you go home, you look in the mirror again.
Overwhelmed with disgust and hopelessness, you throw your dinner in the trash and go back to your room, ignoring your growling stomach and swallowing the lump in your throat.
Even though people give you compliments, you think it’s just because you’ve managed to tuck your belly into a tight pair of jeans that day.
They say you’re beautiful, but your makeup just looked good that day.
You create excuses, rejecting all possibility that you can actually be as beautiful as they say you are.
You never consider that they could be telling the truth.
Wrapped up in all of this hate for ourselves, we have begun to poison our souls, never allowing any positivity to seep in. Society has trained us to never be satisfied.
To always want more money, more educations, a better job, a better lover, a better body. We keep running after these things like a hamster on its wheel. And we can never reach what we’re after.
But why do we spend so much time fighting with ourselves?
It’s such a cliché to say, but there is no one in the world like us and that’s a great thing. No one has our curves. No one has our smile. No one can care about others quite like we do. No one is capable of changing the world in the way that we can because no one sees it like us.
But still, it’s somehow so hard to love ourselves.
Even if you hate your legs, they still carry you everywhere you need to go. Even if you hate your face, it still allows you to see and communicate with the world. And even if you hate your belly, someone out there will still love it and think it’s the most comfortable place to lay their head.
Honestly, fighting with yourself is exhausting. It’s like building a bridge over a sidewalk: pointless and a waste of resources and energy.
It’s hard when all you see are pictures that seem like a rubric for how your body is supposed to be, but we have accept ourselves before anyone else can. That’s the only way those pictures will change.
Our flaws aren’t flaws, they’re marks of individuality.
And it’s time we embraced them. Instead of spending our time in that mirror, poking at ourselves and wishing we could change, we have to learn to love what we have or no one else will be able to.
Life is too short to hide yourself away and live in shame for a stupid meat suit.
If we don’t stop punishing ourselves for being different and finally start celebrating our lives, we’ll spend our whole existence being bitter and missing out on all the things we could be. We have to step up and live by our own guidelines because only then can we be happy.
And all we’ve ever wanted was to be happy.