I think I'm starting to love myself.
It's a weird realization to have. For the past couple years, I have noticed I am in a reluctant marriage with myself. As much as I hated it sometimes, I am stuck with myself until I die. I have to carry everything and everywhere I've been with me my entire life.
Sometimes there are freeing moments. Like when you stand somewhere foreign to you, where no one knows you, and there is this exhilerating feeling of anonymity. And maybe you look at an ocean or a mountain or a castle and feel like you are small enough to be forgotten. Maybe when it takes your breath away, it takes your worry with it. There you feel like you can be someone new, even just for a minute.
But you always have somewhere to come back to, and someone who remembers exactly what you've always been. I used to hate that. It was too heavy to carry around all my regrets and fears and mistakes. Even my joys and accomplishments weren't strong enough to really shoulder the weight.
Recently, I've begun to look at myself like a friend. Someone totally new, who has their own set of issues and triumphs. And I have found that the things I like best about myself are my perceived failures. Honestly, that's what I love most about other people, too. That behind their accomplishments is a voice reminding them of all their insecurities. They move forward anyway.
I love that I have my very own set of scars and bruises and demons that have made me who I am today. That's where my humanity lives. That's where yours exists, too. It's housed in all those things you wish you could do over and those times that broke your heart. I'm starting to hate those things less. To love someone, sometimes you have to take the bad with the good. That counts for yourself, too .
That's where change and growth and humility comes from. And somewhere along the way, I've stopped resenting carrying it all with me.
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