Recently, I’ve been holed up in my room a lot, and skipping mirrors because I don’t want to lapse into another bout of pity and misery.
But about five minutes ago, I had an epiphany (it’s really not that groundbreaking but I think it’s the first time I have fully accepted it)
I may not be pretty, but that doesn’t decrease my worth as a person. At all. So what if I’m not pretty? I’m not saying that being attractive is a bad thing, but it’s just one aspect of who you are as a person.
I’m strong. I’m independent, passionate, opinionated and empathetic.
I am also stubborn, self-pitying, fatalistic and self-righteous.
I am not pretty.
How is it fair of me to accept the good things about me and reject the bad? My good balances out the bad; yin and yang. I have to come to terms with the fact that my faults and my strengths come together to form a wholesome me. And it’s my duty to love all of it.
I don’t criticise myself for not being able to dance well. Or not being able to paint. In the same way, I can’t criticise myself for not being pretty. It’s so silly to think that you are inferior because your face isn’t symmetrical or because your love handles offer maybe too much love.
My body is made up of pieces of my history. My parents, my brother, my grandparents, my great-grandparents… Every callous in my hands is from something I have achieved. My dark circles show that I am working hard to secure my future, to be given a chance to do what I love and contribute what I can to this mad world. Every bit of stretched skin shows that I like food and I’m not ashamed of it. How can I hate this body when it’s the map of my life, when it’s a compilation of my stories? My body is my first novel, my first masterpiece.
My chromosomes have combined beautifully to create me, this laughing, breathing, babbling me. They have fallen together exactly as they were meant to, and I am exactly as I am meant to be.
“Your body is made of the same elements that lionesses are built from. Three quarters of you is the same kind of water that beats rocks to rubble, wears stones away. Your DNA translates into the same twenty amino acids that wolf genes code for. When you look in the mirror and feel weak, remember, the air you breathe in fuels forest fires capable of destroying everything they touch. On the days you feel ugly, remember: diamonds are only carbon. You are so much more.”