Dear Self

Dear Self,

You screw up a lot. You yell a lot. You have a bad temper. 

You bear a lot of hurt and deal a lot of hurt in return. 

You are often anxious about the current situation and need a hug, but instead of asking for one, you find yourself snapping at loved ones and getting anger back. They are human, too, and have a hard time reading your fluxing emotions.  

Because of all of these things, you don't feel worth being told nice things; you don't feel worth great opportunities; you don't feel a whole lot like loving yourself. 

No, you feel like curling into yourself, wrapped in everything you fail at day-after-day and letting them define you. You want to tell everyone you meet everything you've done, so they know you're not worth their time. 

But, self... 

You are worth being told you are amazing, because you are amazing. 

You are worth being told you're beautiful and sexy, because you are beautiful and sexy. 

You are worth all the good things you want and dream of. You really are.

Even now as I type this to you, you doubt such words. 

That feeling is a lie. 

That feeling will only hinder you in the places you deserve to go farthest. 

That feeling is horrid to carry around: it's heavy, sticky, and has no love in it. 

There is so much love for you out there, ready to replace the doubt and unworthiness you currently encapsulate. It is within you already; and all you have to do is see it, and feel it, and believe in it. 

Is it so hard to believe in it? Is it that much harder than believing how much of a mess you are? 

I don't think so. 

So, take it, self. I'm showing it to you, I'm giving it to you, and I'm feeling it for you. 

This love I hold for you is part of you and much bigger than any hate that you hold for yourself. 

I love you so, so much, self. You deserve it all.  


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