Someone broke my heart, and I cried for so long, asking to myself if there was something wrong with me. One day I realized that everything was alright with me, that I am a great person and I’m worthy. I never lose, they lost me. My personal toxic trait was overthinking what was wrong with me and putting the blame on me. Sabotaging myself, listening to voices in my head telling me that I’m never good enough. Comparing myself to others, cause I’m good at that. I am a black belt when I’m beating up on myself but I’m an expert at giving love to somebody else.

While I was reflecting on these thoughts, I asked myself why do I consistently got my finger on the self-destruct? Why am I constantly expecting a ride or die? When mine’s the only heart, I’m going to have for life. After all the times I went and fucked it up, I wonder when “I love me” is enough? Being my own harshest critic used to be my favorite profession, I’m good at believing a whole lot of shit. Well, I say that’s enough. I can’t keep up living this life being my own enemy. This is a learned behavior; you can always unlearn. I forgot about me, and that’s the worst crime, I forgot to love me before falling for him.

Therefore now I’ll place myself first, learn once again to love because I don’t require anybody else to feel good on my own. I’m going to put my body first and if I’m going to love someone that’s going to be myself. Because I’m the only one who’s under no circumstances going to break my heart, not ever. The most challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. If you’re lucky enough to find someone to love the you, you love, well that’s just amazing. Until that I will not be looking for approval or the love I so much deserve on somebody else.

You can take off all my makeup cause I love what’s under it. Rub off all your words, don’t give a shit, I’m over it. Comment on my weight, suggesting I should loose some, I don’t care because I embrace all of it. Want to talk about color? It’s the skin that I’m in, I get from my mommy. I’m growing, got stretch marks and I think they are provocative. I don’t owe anyone nothing.

I’m a ten out of ten even when I forget. I love my rolls; I love my scars and if he tells me that I ain’t pretty well, I say, “I’m beautiful” that’s my committee. I’ll stay provocative, and he will still look at me. I don’t give a fuck anymore. As a result here’s to the person who called me fat, to the one who slut shamed me, to the coward that called me ugly. Cheers to you, in hopes that one day maybe you’ll find happiness. I feel sad for you, trying to bring down others to make you feel important. You’re not better, but you keep living a bitter life.

To those that struggle with their physique and receive critics about their body, let them be and shake it off. That is people that feel uncomfortable in their own skin. If you got little boobs, love it. If you got a big ass, grab it. If you got nothing big, rock it. It’s your life, go get it if you want it. Don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, blonde or brunette, big or small, plain or curvy, love who you are. I’m not an expert at self-love and don’t have it all, I’m not claiming to but I know I am special. Sometimes it can be difficult, and there will always be someone who can’t see your worth. Don’t let it be you.

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