I love to be told I’m beautiful. I love to be looked at with admiration and desire. I love to be appreciated and cherished. Nothing is tenderer and sexier to me than a man I admire staring me in the eyes, gently moving a strand of hair from my face, and me being able to see admiration staring back at me. I love whispered adorations and butterflied crushes. They are the ULTIMATE erotic moments. Well, I’m going to add an awesome head massage to that list. However, I don’t need any of it. I like it, I crave it sometimes, but I don’t need it to feel good about myself. Why? I rock my own world.
I take a lot of selfies, not because I’m narcissistic, but because I genuinely love myself. It took me a long time to get there. And it was a long, hard journey. I’m not self-absorbed or shallow. I’m probably the deepest thinking person I know. I’m not spoiled and pampered. But, if you just met me, you don’t know my story or what a HUGE deal it is for me to take a simple picture. There are no pictures of me for MOST of my life up until the last few years. I didn’t take pictures of myself and others didn’t take pictures of me either. Why should they? I didn’t love myself, so how could I expect them to love me? I didn’t. They didn’t.
I had a reckoning with God and with myself. It wasn’t a pretty process. It was filled with facing a lot of shame, a lot of anger, and a lot of hurt. But, I faced it – and the other side is stunning. I grow more beautiful everyday – regardless if anyone else agrees or not. Their opinion really doesn’t matter to me. I grow more graceful with every new strength, every new accomplishment, and every new selfie. My smile is genuine because I am genuinely happy. Yes, I have some hard moments, sad moments, and painful moments, but even still – I’m happy because I’ve learned to rock my own world.
I’ve learned that nobody else can love me the way I have learned to love me. I’ve been with ME my whole life, and I will be with ME until I die. I’ve seen and experienced everything I’ve been through. There are no secrets, there are no surprises. I know every failure, weakness, success, and strength. I know every shameful moment, low moment, proud moment, embarrassing moment, and every joyous moment. When I look in the mirror, I smile because I LOVE the woman looking back at me. I’m proud of her. I respect her. She is a survivor and a rock star. I know about her fears and her sacrifices, and I’ve watched her face death and rejection a million times, and a million times she stood back up. She has been abused and unloved by the world for most of her life, but she didn’t give up and still fights every day. She’s honest – woefully and painfully honest, and that is beautiful.
Someday her hope is she will find a partner to share all the wonder that she is, who will love her just as much as I do, and who will rock her world …or not. She’s already got me.
Till next time,