My self-image sucks.

Every day I wake up and I say ‘gross.’ I hate the way my shirts lie on my body; with my love handles and the random pouches of fat on my back. Sometimes, I hate the way that I dress. I hate how I have dark circles under my eyes that never seem to go away no matter how much I sleep, and I hate the acne that covers my cheek bones. My feet are gross and I don’t care to show them, even in the summer.

But I also love my body.

I love the way that my eyes glow in the sun and I love how full my cheeks are, even if I seem chunky with them. I love how on the good days, by hair is full and bouncy and I can whip it all around and feel like a Pantene commercial. I love my little mole on the side of my cheek and I love my random dimple that shows when I am truly happy and laughing. I love the way some of my shirts hang on my body and chest as if I have a figure that is enviable and worth loving. I love how muscular my calves are and how my jeans hug my curves and make me feel feminine.

My self-image sucks.

I have all of these flaws that I see every day and that I wish I could change, more often than not. But I also love parts of myself. For years, I have struggled with a self-image that has not been healthy. I’ve blamed society for influencing this, and I’ve blamed myself. I’ve tried overcoming this view, but I keep turning around to face the negativity.

So, why let the negativity win? I’m gorgeous, I’m wonderful, and I’m worth love. I know that I am. I have flaws, but so does everyone else. My flaws make me who I am, and without them, I would be as conceited as the rest.

This struggle is alive, and it’s present in my life every day. But I refuse to ever let it come close to winning again.

I am wonderful, I am gorgeous, and I am worth love.

It’s time that I live this reality.