A Letter to My Insecurities

A Letter To My Insecurities

We once played this game. 

This game called “how much can you make me hate myself?”. 

I gave you so much power over me. 

I let you convince me that I’d never be good enough. 

You fed me these lies and everyday I was one lie away from believing you. 

One lie away from my Suicide. 

You made me cry. 

You made me hate what I saw in the mirror. 

The curls that framed my chubby chocolate face, my curves that went on for days. 

I was slowly losing myself because I was so in love with you. 

I was obsessed with everything you said, all I ever wanted to do was make you happy. 

You were so happy when blood would pour from my stomach, as my wrist begged to not be the next victim. 

Or when you felt that burning sensation against your scalp because you knew it was getting rid of the worst part of you. 

You’d hear the laughter, feel the pointing fingers, the constant tugs on every strand. 

I wanted you to be happy. 

I wanted to please you, make you feel good. 

I didn’t care about myself anymore. 

All I cared about was fixing every flaw you’d point out about me. 

I’d never fit in with the people like me. 

Never please my family. 

You consumed my life for 16 years. 

Forcing me to run away from who I was. 

Until one Day when I’d had enough. 

The game changed and I was taking charge. 

I retaught the game and turned the worst parts of me, into the best parts of me. 

I taught myself how to love me. 

How to forget about all my flaws and to love who I really was. 

Those weren’t stretch marks anymore, they were my tiger stripes. 

Stretching across every inch of my body. 

I had finally earned the Bronze medal. 

I was in first place of loving myself. 

I was so sick of running in circles. 

Sick of taking the verbal abuse I was enduring. 

I have now accepted me.

I am who I am. 

We once played this game. 

This game called “how much can you make me hate myself?”. 

But now the tables have turned and I won.