The other day I had one of those LA epiphany moments you see on tv, and it was pretty amazing. I was driving down Santa Monica Blvd listening to Alanis Morissette- Thank U and I just cried, and smiled, and had the sun shining down on my face. And before that, the lady who did my wax (cause I’m fancy) told me I was beautiful and women would kill to have my body. And it meant a lot to me because she was actually really pretty. And skinny. And engaged. And the girl I wish I was.
Rewind. So basically, I was explaining how fat and insecure I felt in my body and Mishka kindly pointed out to me that those are terrible words and I would never let one of my friends speak that way about herself. And I felt a little knot in the pit of my stomach because she was absolutely right.
I am my meanest, harshest, worst critic. I verbally abuse myself all day long. I tell me I’m fat and I would be better if my thighs were smaller or my knees didn’t have that ugly little coat of fat over them. And they’re knobby. No other girl’s knees have those. My knees look deformed. Fuck my knees! I could go on all day. And if I replaced the word “I” with “she/her” that would literally be cyber bullying.
And then it dawned on me, this is literally how I speak to myself. That is so hurtful! Of course I can’t shake this constant unhappiness when I’m literally verbally abusing myself for being human. For being imperfect. For making mistakes. I hold myself to the death penalty for everything and I’m fucking exhausted! I’m tired of shielding myself from myself and then belittling myself for belittling myself. It’s a vicious cycle and I’m out. I don’t want to play anymore.
I listened to that song and I fucking cried because I realized I was beautiful. I am beautiful!
1. I have really great/cool taste in music. Thanks to my mom, I’ve been listening to Jay Z and Alanis Morissette since like elementary school.
2. I’m brilliantly smart. It’s truly a gift. And also probably why I’m so lazy. I can think myself out of anything, into anything, through anything (I can also overthink anything 😊). Listen, I’ve only had experiences with my brain, but I think she might be pretty fucking special. I like my brain.
3. My heart is as big and as open as all of the oceans combined. That’s a good thing! Yes, sometimes I get hurt because I forget to protect myself and I give too much (to the wrong people). But that doesn’t make me bad. That means I had some lessons to learn and actually my soul is pretty fucking amazing, thank you very much.
I’m done being mean to myself. My default Is that I’m fucking beautiful. I’m perfect. Because I am. My default is not that I am deformed or something is wrong with me. My default is not that she is deformed or something is wrong with her. She is beautiful for who she is. So is he. Get it?
Nothing is wrong with me, not even my knees. Not even your hidden insecurity. I’m a human. We have variation. That’s the cool thing about being a human! So what if our knees look a little different. We need to be nicer again, especially to ourselves.
Also, the next time I don’t talk to the really(!) cute guy at the bar because, “I’m not pretty enough”, I’m going to remember I as a person am fucking beautiful and if he’s distracted by my knees he’s literally a fucking idiot and it’s actually his loss. Except I won’t know if he’s a fucking idiot until I go talk to him. So I’m going to go talk to the cute guy at the bar. Because I’m fucking beautiful. And so are you! And don’t be mean to yourself. Or others.
And while we’re still writing, what are 3 things that make you fucking beautiful? (Say it out loud!!!!)
“How ‘bout no longer being masochistic.
How ‘bout remembering your divinity.”
Pow! Thank you, Alanis Morissette. ☀️