The Truth Is, I Don’t Love Myself Enough To Let You Love Me Yet

 Joel Sossa
Joel Sossa

I look in the mirror and I hate what I see.

I’ve hated it for years now.

I grab and pull at my skin imagining how much better I would feel about myself if I just put down the beer and started working out more. I get angry and frustrated with myself. I point out flaw after flaw on myself. All I see looking back at me is rejection. All I feel is hate and regret, and I can’t stop the feelings.

I don’t love myself.

I tell myself over and over that I am the one in control of my body and my choices. I tell myself to choose better next time around, but I fail. I look forward to the girl I want to be, I think of all the ways my life would get better if I was more fit. I know that might not be true, I’ll always find flaws, but it would be better for me. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself.

Because maybe, just maybe, if I loved myself, even a little bit, that would allow me to let you love me, too.

I finally think I’ve found the source of my self-inflicting pain. I’ve found the reasoning behind why I won’t let anyone in. It’s because I don’t love myself and I’m too self-conscious to let anyone else love me.

I hate my arms, they’re not slim. I hate my stomach because it isn’t toned and firm. I hate my hands and feet, they’re big. I hate my skin because I’m 22 and still have acne like my teenage self.

I don’t know how anyone could love me, so I push them away.

I push them away from me sexually because I’m scared they won’t want me once they see me naked. I push them away because I don’t see how they could possibly find me attractive. I push them away because I don’t have any confidence in myself, so I’d rather not allow them to compliment me or adore me when I would question them constantly.

I’m admitting that I don’t love myself and this is something I’ve been trying to suppress for a while now. I’ve been trying to hide it away under lock and chain.

I’ve been busy telling myself I like being single and that I just don’t like anyone who likes me. But the truth is, I haven’t given anyone a chance because I’m scared they will reject me for not being thin enough, or fit enough, or toned enough because those are all reasons I reject myself. Even if they tell me those are all things they love about me, I convince myself they’re lying.

I push people away from me in a romantic and sexual way. I compare myself to others. I think I’m not good enough because I could always be better. I know it isn’t healthy, but I’ve finally admitted it, I’ve finally said that I don’t allow myself to be loved because I don’t love myself.

I don’t love myself so I don’t want anyone to love me, until I love myself first.

I don’t want someone to come into my life and try to fix the broken pieces of me. I don’t want someone to come and shower me in compliments hoping to lift my self-esteem. I don’t want someone to try to heal my open wounds. I want to fix myself on my own time, I need to fix myself on my own time because once I love myself then maybe I’ll let you love me.

Until then, I’ll be busy working on me. TC mark

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You look back and you just feel stupid.
You can’t forgive yourself for falling
or believing all the lies.
You reread every text.
You relive every memory.
And it all starts making sense —
he never wanted love.
He only wanted attention.
He only wanted validation.

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