Monday, June 21, 2010

Longs to be held

I think I just realized I'm deeply messed up in the head.
No I know, it's probably not something new, but something I just came across.

I'm one of the few females that walk this earth that truly, truly loves themselves. Inside and out. I'm not stick-thin, I'm not perfect; in my eyes I don't demand perfection. I only give my best and that is what I have to offer. If that's not acceptable then you're not acceptable to me.

This kind of love comes off as cockiness, elitism, narcissism, but more often than not just plain conceit. I'm not like that. I love myself because despite all the change and hurt and heartbreak in the world, its the only thing I can control (most of the time). I wouldn't even call myself confident. I'm deeply flawed like most, and with that comes some self-esteem issues. But the fact that I love myself just because I can control my actions is not what makes self-love possible. Self-love comes from years of appreciating the works and the parts of our body and what they can produce. I love my thighs because they can push a bike further or run further than most can. I love my feet because they keep me stable, and so on and so forth. Each part of me serves a purpose, especially my brain. (probably the most valuable)

But beneath all this self-love and confidence (sorta) is a lot of longing. I'm a sucker for long-term relationships, simply because I've never had a stable one. I miss hugs and being held, simply because I never was.

Lesson here: beneath every strong, confident woman is a little girl who grew up too fast.

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