Why It Is OKAY To Not Be Perfect

Perfect

Look at what I have done

I have made a mess of myself once again

Here I am on the bathroom floor with my back against the wall hating myself

The hot tears fall down my cheeks

Why am I doing this to myself?

I am not the perfect daughter

I am not the perfect sister

I am not the perfect friend

I am not the perfect girlfriend

I will never be perfect

I want to be thinner

I want to be prettier

I want to be tanner

I want to be just like those girls in the magazines

I want to be good enough

Look at me

I’m sitting in front of the toilet

I was shoving my fingers down my throat

I was puking my guts out

All of this just to feel pretty?

I stand from my place of rock bottom

I flush the toilet as if nothing was in it

I grab a cloth and wet it to wipe the corners of my mouth

I look at myself in disgust

“You are not pretty,” I say.

No one ever knows what happens behind closed doors

No one thinks about the little girls crying and feeling unwanted

No one thinks about how society affects a nation

No one thinks about the pain one human can tolerate

No one thinks about me

I walk out of the bathroom as if nothing happened

Mother always told me it’s okay to be imperfect

Father always told me to stay true to who you are

But how do you learn to love yourself

If you have never been taught?