“I love myself, I wanna see it
When I turn around, look in the mirror
And if you don’t like it, you can leave it
‘Cause it’s my own and I’ll keep owning it”
S.L.U.T – Bea Miller
Welcome back my home slices.
Today I’m going back in on a subject that has plagued me for so many years, I thought hating myself was just who I was. I’ve come a long way since my first blog post on this, which is actually the first post I ever made on Kiss Of Beth’s. However I don’t want to just cover body confidence in this post, but confidence in general.
Anyone who has met me personally and has managed to break down my walls and get past my front would know that the confidence I show to the word is a complete and utter taradiddle of who I actually am.
At least it was. Over the recent months, I have started to feel much more confident in myself and my personality. I have come to realise and accept that not everyone is going to like me and you know what? That’s ok. I don’t need everyone to like me.
I’ve also stopped gauging myself on the approval of others. The only opinions that actually mean anything to me these days are of the people I love. I know the people I value only have my best interests at heart. Those are the people who will have my back when I need it, the people who straight up tell me I am being a prick and the people who compliment me when they truly mean it.
I’m finally comfortable with myself. Which is strange. From my personality to my body. I’m good. It’s a strange feeling. I’m finally out in this world knowing that I am cool, I am good and my body is something I can actually be proud of.
Let’s start talking about my body. My body has always been something that has been something I’ve had a somewhat tempestuous relationship with. However, I can’t be out here letting Lizzo down by hating myself.
So now I am going to do something I never thought I’d do. Post a photo of me in my pants on the internet.
Hope you also enjoy the view of my sink
This is my body. It’s no one else’s. Some people will look at me and be disgusted by what they see. Some people look at me and want to eat my ass like a cupcake. Either is fine. Both are non important. The only person I need to impress is myself.
I finally love every inch of myself. Every lump. Every curve. Every bump. Every stretch mark and scar. Each thing makes me who I am. It’s taken me a long, long time to come to terms with it. My body is my vessel. This vessel helps me do the shit I want to do. Yes I need to look after it and yes, I need to keep it healthy. However who said I can’t love myself? Who said I can’t be into the way I look, belly chub and all.
I look at myself in the mirror and I see a fucking goddess. I may not fit societies standard of beauty, but I fit my own. What else matters? Nothing.
I finally wear what I want to wear. I do my hair and make up as I want and I tattoo my body because fuck it, that’s what makes me happy. I have finally realised I wasn’t put on this god damn earth to be someone else’s version of perfection. I’m here to be my version of perfection. If I’m not happy with the way I am, I’ll change it for me and no one else.
Just remember, you can’t love nobody; until you love yourself. Can I get an amen up in here.