As I sit in an abandoned parking lot looking into the Dallas night line, I think to myself how beautiful the lights are. What is my definition of beauty? Beauty is someone unafraid to be themselves. It’s an identity you believe about yourself when no one is looking. Beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself.
As a kid, and as an adult, rarely have I felt beautiful. I’ve always admired people who had their shit together, and looked the part. Like they had the “life handbook.” I should be able to admire someone’s beauty without questioning my own. Why do I feel like damaged goods instead of a work of art? So I beg the question, how do you make yourself feel beautiful? Do you put on make up to brighten the highlights of your face? Or do you put on fancy clothes so make your appearance look less flawed?
There is a quote by Anne Frank that really resonates with me, “I don’t think of all the misery, but all of the beauty that still remains.” There is so much lingering beauty that I fail to acknowledge when I’m having a bad day, or I’m sad because my life wasn’t/isn’t exactly what I think it should be. And changing perspective is sometimes easier said than done. But it’s completely necessary if I want to see the magnificence of the world. I know it’s out there, and sometimes right in front of me. It’s time I see and embrace it.
Every positive change in life begins with a clear and luminous decision that you are going to either do something, or stop doing something. Every day I find myself doing something to love myself forward. Healing is more than just forgiving the people that traumatized you. It’s a hard process, but staying wounded is harder. I have to learn how to love and trust again. I am holding the pen, and I’m the only one that can make the next snippet of life amazing. So what am I waiting on?
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