Your eyes are too narrow,

Your thighs are much too big,

Your hair isn’t shiny enough,

Your stomach isn’t flat enough,

Idiot, you knew that answer but you got it wrong still.

You’re fat,

You’re ugly,

You’re too short

Over the years, I’ve had this going through my head at least on a daily basis if not more.

Looking in the mirror has become challenging, seeing a photograph of myself and thinking ‘ew is that really me?’

rewriting and rethinking have been my life,

Wondering if I’m ever good enough,

Or,

Why someone would choose me to be their friend when there are literally hundreds of other ‘better’ candidates.

How judge would chose my argument,

or,

my paper,

or,

my essay.

And perhaps I’m not all to blame,

Perhaps,

It’s when I was little and got bullied,

Or,

Looking back,

Maybe I’m all to blame.

I let the voices inside.

I let them punch my mental guards in the gut.

I let it happen,

It’s nobody else’s fault but my own,

And lately,

I’m learning that I have to talk nicely to myself.

Because,

If  I don’t,

Nobody else will either.

I have to want to believe I’m good enough,

Before somebody else can be good to me.

I can’t be happy,

until I allow myself to be happy.

I have to believe that I’m beautiful, smart, and happy. 

Because people can say it to me,

But their words are invisible to me,

until I believe it myself.

I just wish I had learned that earlier in life.