About

Love Thyself

The scale for this part of the test was 0-5.

If you had a score of 2 or higher that meant you screened positive.

I score a 2.

Mild eating disorder. Nothing extreme like before, nothing I’m too surprised about either.

You never really stop feeling it, the innate feeling that you are not good enough. That your body is good enough.

I can look at pictures of me from before and think to myself “much too thin. Unhealthily thin.” And I think I’ve made progress.

I look in the mirror somedays and I like what I see, a slim yet fit girl at a 4’11 stature. No frail looking arms, no “abs” abnormally prominent at all times. A girl with a sweet face and a soft but toned stomach.

Other days are harder. I see a child. Hips not big enough, a face that is too full when I smile—memories of baby fat still aglow. Long arms but a short torso that feel oddly mashed together.

The hardest days are the ones when I feel the past mindset trickling in. Because those days I don’t need to eat more than a few bites of my food. As long as there are no headaches I am fine. I don’t need to eat another slice of pizza just because I’m not entirely full yet. My breasts are too big and abnormally placed on my chest, my stomach protrudes ever so slightly but enough to make my skin crawl.

I am in a world where I must be perfect. My size, my look, my entire being is scrutinized to make sure I still fit my “brand”. I am trying desperately to love myself in this world. Mentally? I may always score a 2, I may always live with a constant scratch in the record that causes me to think of old habits.

But I can also sit here and say that it’s a 2, not a 5. I doubt myself, but I know when I need help. This is a journey I must go on, sometimes I may need a guide along the way.

You can live with the thoughts of a 2, but always rely on the fact that you know how to get to 0.

That is hope I hold onto for myself. The idea that helps me know that self love is attainable for me.

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Back for a Moment

I’ve been in college for approximately 2 months and I have grown into an entirely different person.

My hair is darker for starters, which has made me feel more mature in a way. I feel like a woman, an actual young woman who will be able to do grown up things and start a new life.

I’ve become more confident and unafraid to be myself. In high school I know I put up a front and now I shed that with ease, my friends receive my authentic personality and celebrate it with me.

I’m with the love of my life again. I think we’re made out of the same stardust truly–that’s why it’s so hard for us to part. He is my person, my best friend, my love, my light. Everyday he encourages me to keep going and loving me no matter how difficult it gets. I feel in my soul he is made for me and hope to be with him forever (or as long as fate permits).

Theatre is hard. It’s demanding. But it is my dream. Sometimes I falter, I get scared that I’m making the wrong choice; but then I remember they chose me. I am not here by mistake, I earned my spot and I will continue to prove that everyday.

I’m done being compliant, I’ve let people walk all over me my whole life. I’ve accepted the worst treatment, and never directly addressed problems. But now I do. I want my experience at Elon to be one of positivity, I’m tired of high school shit. I surround myself with people on the same plane of existence.

I’ve made my family here, and I love each and every one of them. Now, I have to start practicing loving myself more.

And there will be update on that later 🙂

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I’ve done the in between stuff.

Not really dating but not completely over.

I’ve convinced myself that it was ok, that I could be that person that sacrifices the need for commitment for a few stolen moments in the night.

But I can’t do that with you. I can’t sacrifice 9 whole months of love, feeling like I’m the only one on your mind and knowing that you’ll always choose me. I can never ever sacrifice that for you and above all else for myself.

Maybe we saw each other too soon. I lied. I said I would be ok but I’m not. I just wanted to see you; in my own selfish way I wanted to see if I could convince you to choose me. But all I did was cause even more heartache for myself.

You can’t have me both ways, I can’t become “just friends” but then magically become the love of your life once more just because you feel like kissing me. Or touching me like you used to not even days before, or say my name with such fondness that it feels like you gave me the title.

I’ve been through this, but it hurts astronomically more with you because I actually believed we had a chance. It’s breaking me in half because I’m still completely in love with you.

You took half of me with you when you sent that text.

The Difficult Perplexity that caused Distress

I would like to make a disclaimer for this post to say that I do not condone compromising your happiness to stay with someone that is toxic to your health. But I will say this: you do not choose to be mentally ill, it is out of your control sometimes. Disagree if you do, that’s ok I respect that, however I am an individual who at times does succumb to the struggles I have. I feel shame for this, and you must understand that your loved ones may feel ashamed as well for not being 100% ok all the time. While I understand you can only be patient for sometime I encourage you all to try and continue to love individuals and encourage them even on their worst days. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And to the person this post is for, I am sorry for disappointing you; you may say that I didn’t. But I know I did because I disappointed myself. I love you.

If you can’t love yourself how can you love someone else?

The very notion of this phrase stares me down and laughs at me; it tells me everyday that maybe I don’t deserve love, and I find that unfair.

Because everyday I wish, I pray my brain didn’t work the way it does. That I could read as many self help books, I could exercise and feel endorphins coursing through my veins, and somehow I would feel better.

I wish I could choose to be better, I wish that when I do choose it would stick. That it wouldn’t be a struggle some mornings to get out of bed and smile at a stranger. That it wouldn’t feel exhausting to eat or give myself basic care.

It’s easy for some. It’s so easy that you feel lazy. You feel like a bother, you feel like you don’t deserve to cry—to ask for a little more help. You feel disgusting, so unworthy. Pathetic.

I want to be better. I need to feel better. I feel like I’m screaming inside my head, screeching at the sky for some deity to rewire everything and make me new.

Sometimes I truly believe everyone would be better if I wasn’t me. If I was born with a completely healthy mind; one without baseless fears and paranoia, without the need for sensitivity, no gentle care needed the minute my fragility shows through.

Someone that didn’t need anyone. Someone that didn’t pretend that they were independent because the minute she would feel herself falter she could brush it away and smile.

But I can’t be her. I fucking wish I could, I wish more than anything in this entire world I could be that for everyone.

I wish it more than life itself.

So to answer the question, I can love others.

But I want so desperately to love myself, because that’s easier said than done.

“can I keep you?”

When I have nightmares I run to my mom’s room.

I’m almost 18 years old and I still go to my mom, it’s the most juvenile of secrets that I have; I creep in and she wordlessly makes room for me on the other side and says a small prayer while I drift off to sleep.

I turn on my lamp.

I’m afraid of the dark, always have been, and I probably always will be. The lamp is my security, the orb to ward off evil intentions.

I stay up.

I’ve been doing it since I was six, I stay up as late as I can to outrun the scary thoughts and make myself so exhausted that they are the furthest thing from my mind.

Last night I had a nightmare and I woke up in an unfamiliar place.

I ran to you. You were half asleep with your now darkened hair ruffled around, I poked and prodded in the dark until you made space for me next to you. You wrapped your arms around me and I could feel bare skin brushing against my cheek; the scandal of the situation brought me into a flustered, bashful state.

You turned the lights on. Just small ones because you know the shadows on the walls play tricks on my eyes so you whispered reassurances in my ear. You kissed my forehead because you know it makes me smile, I could feel your fingertips lazily picking up and putting down random strands of my hair.

You stayed up with me. In the following two hours we had honest conversations of where things will lead when we have to part. We reflected on the beautiful growth eight months of this relationship have given us. You listened to my fears about college and reminded me that I belong. You made me laugh, you always make me laugh; the side glances and sassy comments left my cheeks aching but I didn’t mind—I never mind.

I fell in love with you all over again. You make me realize the kind of life I want to have, that I can have. No matter what happens or how things go for us I want you in my life. I would love to have you in my life if you would give me the honor.

Thank you for letting me keep you.

What I’ve learned

1. You’re going to change your style every single year, it’s the key indicator of personal growth.

2. Friends aren’t jealous of friends. They celebrate others’ accomplishments not drown themselves in their own disappointments.

3. Love doesn’t hurt.

4. People notice happiness that you make for yourself, people will want to be near that. But don’t let them take it.

5. Own your talents.

6. Confidence doesn’t not equal cockiness.

7. People can say “I love you” and not mean it.

8. People enter your life in seasons for different reasons. It’s called ebb and flow.

9. Trust your gut. Always listen to intuition. Always.

10. Kindness and being nice are two different things.

11. People can try and tell you who you are, but most of the time they’re wrong.

12. Smile, laugh as loud as you can. Let them hear your joy.

13. Don’t forget to tell them you love them.

14. Life is so fucking fragile.

15. It’s ok to ask for help.

16. Do not let fear guide your life.

17. Talk. Say when something’s wrong, don’t bottle it up in a passive aggressive episode.

18. Lists are still really hard.

Forget me nots

I want to feel good again. I want the insecurities and scars of memories to leave my mind. I want to not constantly look over my shoulder for the bad times that always seem to creep in when things feel calm.

I want to forget the nights I’ve cried because I was stupid and didn’t see warning signs. I want to forget about the people that hurt me because I know I wouldn’t dare let it happen again.

I want to remember how beautiful I am. I want to remember how the curvatures of my body are something to be envied and that I don’t need to hurt myself to feel pretty. I want to get out of this endless loop of contemplating and complaining, of vexing accusations and void statements.

I have words for how I feel but I also have none. I have fear. Fear of what could be and fear of what isn’t said.

I am too precious to lose, I know that. But I also feel like this loss would be a breath of fresh air, that everyone would be better off.

Importance, a state of being that I don’t remember. I want to feel important I want to be important. I want to be the one.

I don’t want to be forgotten.