A Letter To Me For The Days I Don't Like Myself

A Letter To Me For The Days I Don’t Like Myself

When you’re standing in front of your reflection and you lay your eyes on your body, I cannot avoid feeling sorry for that melancholic look on your face. When you get undressed and you look at yourself, scrutinizing the whole surface in search of any kind of imperfection, I can see the soft sigh of resignation stumbling upon your lips. When you gently put some makeup on your skin, I feel sad for the way your eyes seem to light up only when you’re done with your work of art.

I know you hate what you see in the mirror, even though you don’t really see yourself. I want you to know that, sometimes, I hate you too. I hate the way you hesitate when you take your clothes off, the way you brush your long fingers against those stretchmarks around your hips, the way you underestimate yourself.

I despise how you wrap yourself up in layers of clothes to hide all those things you don’t like about your body. How you shiver when you hear some strangers chuckling, because you think they’re laughing at you. I loathe you because you will only make love when it’s dark because you’re afraid they’ll run away if they see you with the lights on. Because if they don’t call you back, you’ll think there’s something wrong with you. Because you always consider yourself damaged goods, a burden, a weak freak.

Mostly, I hate how you promised you would get through this but you still haven’t found a way to deal with it. I hate how you wake up some days and I see you happy and confident, and I see that joy swiftly taken away from you, ripped out of your hands.

But I’m proud you stopped looking for validation in others. I’m proud that you still get out of bed in the morning to fight your demons. I’m grateful that, no matter how much you hate yourself, you still try to love yourself the way you love everyone else. I don’t know why it is so hard for you to accept yourself. I don’t know why you always feel like you’re not enough. But I’m glad you still have hope. That’s the reason why I will always smile back to you, when you look in the mirror. I pledge to support you and encourage you whenever you will be in need. I vow to remind you about that small tattoo on your wrist, the promise you made to yourself and how you intend to keep your word as you always do.

Take care of yourself. But don’t freak out if you can’t, because I will. TC mark

About the author
Raconteur and voyageur in love with love itself. Follow Giulia Dana on Instagram or read more articles from Giulia Dana on Thought Catalog.

Learn more about Thought Catalog and our writers on our about page.

Related