Enough

It is hard to love yourself especially when your entire life you have been programmed to loath what you look like. We unfortunately live in a society were looks are what matter most. Why? Why are looks more important that the content of my character? Why is the size of my waist and thighs more important than love or hate in my heart? Why, do we as humans put such importance on looks? What if the prettiest woman has the blackest heart and soul? What if the woman you think is unattractive has a heart of gold? Why are we so shallow? Why is society infatuated with the perfect body? May it be slim and tall or short and muscular, everyone has a different idea of what the perfect body is. What if my idea of the perfect body is the one I live in? I'm not 5'6 and 120 pounds far from it in fact. But this body is mine, all its flaws and imperfections all my curves and scars all my edges and bruises it is mine. This is the only body I have, this is the only thing that I can say will never be taken from me. My body has given and continues to give me so much more than I have ever given it. This body has let me feel love and hope, despair and hate, freedom and fear its let me feel an abundance of love for my family and it's let me feel rage and hate for those I dislike. It has given me the chance to hate and love myself time and time again. It has carried me to the peak of mountains, and to the bare bottom of water. It's healed after cuts and broken legs. It lets me smell sweet roses and cinnamon buns and the occasional "what the hell is that smell?" this body has given me so much and it continues to do so without asking for anything in return. The very least I can do is love it for its unconditional ability to give to me. I'm never going to be 5'7 with sky high legs and a face that could make an angel weep. I will never be a size 2, hell I'll probably never be a size 10 either. I'll never be Miss America and I'll never be labeled a raving beauty. And you know what? I can sincerely sit here and say that I don't give a damn. I'm done with hating myself because everyone says how I look is wrong. I'm done shaming myself because the world doesn't like my extra pounds. I'm done punishing myself because I don't look like my sister. I'm done crying because people feel it's OK to point and stare and make disgusting hurtful comments. I'm done putting myself through hell because the world deems me "un-pretty". It has taken me 23 years to even begin to believe that I in fact am beautiful, I am worth more than what others or even what I value myself. If I continue or any of you for that matter to constantly hate ourselves and constantly change our physical and mental perception of ourselves because others label us as "not pretty" eventually without a doubt we will want our original self's back. It sounds cliche and you know what? Maybe it is, but love yourself all of you. Everything that you hate or dislike about you can be the very thing that makes other people love you. We're not meant to be "one size fits all". We're not meant to be "cookie cutter" and frankly I love things and people with character and unique pieces that all perfectly combine to make an imperfectly beautiful disaster. Don't torture and crucify yourself for not "fitting in" whatever that is. Be you, all facets and versions of you. Never allow someone else to dictate how you should look, but most importantly never give someone else the power to make you feel inferior because of your looks. Be proud that you don't fit a mold, we weren't born to fit in but to stand out and be ourselves, and that is what makes life great. Don't spend YOUR life being a version of someone else's YOU. I'm still learning how to love all of me, it's a work in progress, and I know that it will always be a struggle. After 23 years of being told that I'm not beautiful or that "I have a pretty face but to bad the rest of you doesn't match your face" or that if "I lost weight someone would love me" I'm done. I'm done believing those disgusting words, but most of all I'm done beating myself up and hating myself for other peoples closed minded opinion of my standard of beauty.

                                     Isamar