Sometimes I feel like I am both, simultaneously, the happiest and saddest girl in the world. I don’t believe that I suffer from depression, or serious anxiety, nor do I believe I’m bipolar, some days I’m just completely and genuinely happy, and other days, I find myself in a very dark, very mysterious place.
Sometimes the happiness lasts for a few weeks, a few months, a few moments, a few hours, the length of a song off the Deja Entendu album. The sadness comes like that too. Sometimes the happiness and the sadness are triggered by life events and other times, they just simply consume me, for what seems to be, no reason at all.
I love myself when I am happy. When I am happy, I am kind to myself. I look in the mirror and I feel good. When I am happy, I am the girl who sings to the dashboard with the windows down. When I am happy, I am the girl who writes uplifting and positive things. When I am happy, I am playful and fun, I am curious and confident. I spoil myself and others with my love when I am happy.
I used to hate myself when the sadness came. The sad part of me is so hard on me. Sad me is a nitpicker, a perfectionist, she’s ruthless, even wicked. She is a bully, but thankfully, the bully in me has no desire to lash out at anyone but myself. I find that much of my sadness is caused by my insecurities.
You’re not pretty enough. You’re not smart enough. You’re not skinny enough. You’re not thick enough. You’re not curvy enough. Your skin isn’t clear enough. You’re not fit enough. You’re just simply not enough. I’ve said it all to myself in the mirror. I would never speak such harsh words to another human being, so why do I feel it okay to speak to myself this way?
I’ve literally told myself I wasn’t skinny enough and then told myself I wasn’t thick enough in the same sentence. Where is the logic in that? Do I want to be skinny or do I want to be thick? Do I even know? If I was one, I would most certainly want to be the other, but why?
Why am I my own worst enemy?
My sadness is where my insecurities reside. It’s a place where feelings of envy, jealousy, and hate are welcome, a place for anything toxic to call home. It’s home to the parts of me that wish I was more, the parts of me that tell me I’m not enough, the parts of me that are constantly comparing myself to other women, the part of me that feels jealous of the ass on our waitress while out to eat with my boyfriend, the part of me that feels threatened by others beauty, the part of me that questions my own beauty and my own worth, time and time again.
I’m working on burying the bully in me. I’m learning to channel my sadness and insecurities in positive ways. It’s taken 23 years for me to learn how to love myself, 23 years for me to realize what a bitch I’ve been to myself.
I’ve accepted the fact that I’m never going to be a size zero. My hair is always going to be a wild mess and my eyebrows will mostly likely never be described as “on fleek”. It feels so good to stop comparing myself to celebrities, hot fit chicks on instagram, friends and even strangers. It feels so good to finally feel like I am enough.
I found that my insecurities were to blame for much of my sadness.
While I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still battle my insecurities from time to time, it feels good to be the girl that points out the waitress with the nice butt while out to eat with my boyfriend, the girl who feels sexy in a pair of blue jeans that aren’t a size 0, the girl who sees hot fit chicks on insta as motivation instead of just another reminder of how far from my body goals I really am.
Ladies, and gentlemen too, I strongly encourage you to work on burying the bully in you. Practice self-love. Be your own best friend rather than your own worst enemy. There are plenty of people out there who are going to say bad things about you, who are going to try to hurt you and bring you down; you do not need to be one of them.