20 Things About Myself That I'd Like to Improve On

20 Things About Myself That I'd Like to Improve On

We could all stand to better ourselves.

Self-love is definitely a process, and I know I have a long way to go in my journey of self-discovery and becoming the best person I can be. I am getting there. There are still things about myself that I would like to change and/or work on to improve and, even though this is about me personally, I am sure that other people will be able to relate.

1. I want to be more assertive in my opinions and stand up for what I believe in.

2. I want to be louder and make certain that people can hear me.

3. I want to be kinder.

4. I want to be able to empathize with people more.

5. I want to physically walk with confidence.

6. I want to be a better leader.

7. I want to show people how much I care about them, and take privileges and people for granted less.

8. I want to look at the world more optimistically and more realistically, with a balance that focuses less on the negative side of things.

9. I want to be a hard worker and stop procrastinating all the time.

10. I want to be less fearful when I try new things, and just go for it.

11. I want to be more consistent in my habits and in what I say.

12. I want to be healthier, both through diet/exercise and through spirituality.

13. I want to rely less on the material things I own, like my phone.

14. I want to learn to be humble.

15. I want to help other people grow and discover themselves.

16. I want to practice gratitude for my situation and how far I have come.

17. I want to stop being so hard on and impatient towards myself and others.

18. I want to let go of the things that don't matter so much, and to stop dwelling on the past frequently.

19. I want to become wiser.

20. Finally, I want to become a better person as I see fit.

I am working on all of these things and, like I said, it is a process. I will find my way and work at it as I go, so there is no need trying to drive myself nuts because I'm not fully happy with the person I am yet. Patience. You will find and make your way.

Cover Image Credit: Danielle Dirksen

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A Love Letter To The Girl Who Cares Too Much About Everyone But Herself

You, the girl with a heart full of love and no place big enough to store it all.


Our generation is so caught up in this notion that it's "cool" not to care about anything or anyone. I know you've tried to do just that.

I'm sure there was a brief moment where you genuinely believed you were capable of not caring, especially since you convinced everyone around you that you didn't. But that just isn't true, is it? Don't be ashamed of this, don't let anyone ridicule you for having emotions.

After everything life has put you through, you have still remained soft.

This is what makes you, you. This is what makes you beautiful. You care so deeply and love so boldly and it is incredible, never let the world take this from you.

Have Your Voice Heard: Become an Odyssey Creator

You are the girl who will give and give and give until you have absolutely nothing left. Some may see this as a weakness, an inconvenience, the perfect excuse to walk all over you. I know you try to make sense of it all, why someone you cared so much about would treat you the way they did.

You'll make excuses for them, rationalize it and turn it all around on yourself.

You'll tell yourself that maybe just maybe they will change even though you know deep down they won't. You gave them everything you had and it still feels as if they took it all and ran. When this happens, remind yourself that you are not a reflection of those who cannot love you. The way that people treat you does not define who you are. Tell yourself this every day, over and over until it sticks. Remind yourself that you are gold, darling, and sometimes they will prefer silver and that is OK.

I know you feel guilty when you have to say no to something, I know you feel like you are letting everyone you love down when you do. Listen to me, it is not your responsibility to tend to everyone else's feelings all the time. By all means, treat their feelings with care, but remember it is not the end of the world when you cannot help them right away.

Remember that it is OK to say no.

You don't have to take care of everyone else all the time. Sometimes it's OK to say no to lunch with your friends and just stay home in bed to watch Netflix when you need a minute for yourself. I know sometimes this is much easier said than done because you are worried about letting other people down, but please give it a try.

With all of this, please remember that you matter. Do not be afraid to take a step back and focus on yourself. You owe yourself the same kind of love and patience and kindness and everything that you have given everyone else. It is OK to think about and put yourself first. Do not feel guilty for taking care of yourself. You are so incredibly loved even when it doesn't feel like it, please always remember that. You cannot fill others up when your own cup is empty. Take care of yourself.

Cover Image Credit: Charcoal Alley

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A Story About Insecurity

My insecurities try to hold me back from writing. I don't let them win.


I'm going to tell you a story about myself, or at least, I am going to try. This is a story that I've been unknowingly writing for the past 25 years, for the past 9,244 days.

The story begins now, in a room that could disguise itself as the living room of a model home. I'm sitting in a room that's empty of other people; but there are a lot of chairs, 26 to be exact, a sofa, and some more couch-like chairs. I could have a lot of friends over to my theoretical model home.

I don't know if I could even name 26 people that I'd want to be around right now. More than half of them would decline the invitation anyway. The others wouldn't come to my party, or we'd have a sad-looking get together with Lays Original chips and French Onion dip, the kind that comes in a jar, and lots of chairs.

The devil on my shoulder, my insecurity, tells me that I wouldn't be a good host anyway.

You can barely hold a conversation. What would you even talk about with all two people that show up to your dumb pity party? You'd just twiddle your thumbs and stare at your shoes. You have such shitty taste in high-calorie snack foods. French onion dip and Lays chips? Really?

Before you ask, I'm used to this kind of beratement. It's an everyday thing. My insecurity visits me every day without fail. I do my best to block her out. She's a side character in my story. Not big enough to have a leading role, but still ever present. When things get messy, sometimes I'll confront her.


But I'm distracted, so I forget about confronting her. My quiet model house living room has been infiltrated by people that I didn't invite. I should've been prepared for this; my living room is a public space.

This is where I come to write.

This is where I struggle with the voice inside my head that feeds off of the blank page. The more white that there is on the page, the louder the voice is. Don't even start to write. It says, Your writing doesn't matter. Nothing that you do right now matters.

The infiltrators left the front door open, and the autumn wind is blowing in cold air.

I'm cold, I should leave, I think, and get a sweatshirt. I should get away from the infiltrators, who I did not invite to my party.

But I don't move. I stay seated, shivering. I put on my headphones and listen to the same song over and over again, hoping to fall into some kind of creative trance.

Don't let this idea float away, I think. Don't let it escape.

Insecurity is back. What the fuck are you talking about? What are you even writing about?

I'm trying to tell them. I'm trying to write my life story. But you keep interrupting, I tell Insecurity. I can't concentrate very well with you always screaming in my ear. Now please, settle down.

My mom calls, the phone rings and I hit decline. I'm working.


The moment begins to feel very meta because I can hear the desperation in her voice; my insecurity is becoming insecure. One of the only ways to quiet my insecurity is to fill the white space. The less blank the page is, the quieter her voice gets.

So I continue to write, to spite my insecurity, that crazy fucking bitch.

She is a part of me. I wouldn't be who I am without her. She's taught me a lot about myself. She's been with me since my sense of self first formed, hiding around the corner, waiting for the perfect time to try and take over my entire being.

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