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Sometimes I hate myself. Sometimes I hate my body. I stare in the mirror over and over again. I take countless photos on my phone to compare. I think about what I should be doing that could be more productive, I wonder if I’m really just a big old fluke and if I honestly suck at everything. 

I hate my body, I tell myself.

I feel ugly and fat, I want to change everything and I hate how my clothes feel and I just want to scream my skin off. 

I want to go back in time and tell my old self who hated herself how beautiful she was.

I want to go to my future self and ask how I got through it. 

I want to escape me.

I don’t last in these loops for long, because most of the time I wake up to a new day and feel reborn in my skin-I can look in the mirror and feel confident, loved, and beautiful. 

I'm sick of hating me.

I'm sick of not accepting change.

I'm sick of making excuses to feel down on myself.

This is what prevents me from going doing and being.

This is what prevents me from actually achieving and being what I am capable of.

I know I can't perfectly escape this vicious cycle, but I don't want it to consume most of my days and most of my mind.

It already has taken up years I can't get back. It already has wrecked my body underneath  in ways I can’t see but only know in the absence of it. 

What I think to be true-often becomes true, 

We create our version of reality.

The only truth we know is to not know completely.

I want my version of truth and reality to be one where I love myself-where I feel myself-where I become the version of myself who is confident in me, through changes, through processes.

My dream self is already there, I cultivate the dream by living in the best version of myself, which I treat with love.