The Real Me Loves Me

As a woman in today’s society, it’s so easy to fault yourself for everything that you’re not instead of seeing all that you are. We can’t see who we are, we just constantly see what we’re not. We have learned that no one is perfect, but it’s easy to pretend that you are.

Stop believing the lies.

Everyone needs to stop hiding behind Instagram photos, Snapchats, and Tweets pretending that everything in their lives is so great. We’re constantly posting about the smiles and laughter, but what if we posted about the crying and the sadness too? What if we were all completely and 100% honest about who we are and how we feel all of the time?

Wouldn’t that be something.

I’ve learned to accept that I’m not perfect. I’ve constantly looked at who I’m not instead of who I actually am, and it’s torn me apart for too long. I’ve constantly gauged my self-worth on what a man thinks of me or how he treats me. I’ve constantly found my purpose in pushing myself to the limit so much that I realize I do have a breaking point.

I’m human.

I’m supposed to make mistakes. I’m supposed to fall in love and fall out of love. I’m supposed to love myself the most. I’m supposed to reach my breaking point and have a mental breakdown every now and then. I’m supposed to love myself just as I am. Perfectly imperfect.

In my 29 years of existence, I’ve compared myself to other women. I’ve been guilty of buying the push up bra. I’ve been guilty of over spending on makeup. I’ve been guilty of having to have the perfect tan. I’ve been guilty of buying myself all of these materialistic things that don’t actually matter and really don’t define me.

I’m not doing it anymore. I’m embracing me and all of the mood swings that come along with her. I’m embracing going braless and bare face and hopefully that’s just enough. I’m not out to please anyone other than me anymore.

I’ve been on a self-discovering journey the last few years and it’s been nothing short of interesting. I’ve fallen in love, had my heart broken, been treated like complete shit, questioned my self-worth and who I am. But through all of that, I’ve finally been able to find the real me. The real me is not afraid of the obstacles that lie ahead. The real me is aware that people come and go and that’s just life. The real me has learned that men are not a necessity. That real me has learned to love me.

About the author
Indiana University. B.A. English. Follow Ashley on Instagram or read more articles from Ashley on Thought Catalog.

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