I love looking at myself, but sometimes it's very disappointing. On a daily basis, I look in the mirror and I see something I hate. In complete nude, I examine my body from head to toe. Let me tell you, it never ends well.

I begin looking at myself with a clear mind, but then I start to point out my imperfections. That's where all my confidence goes, in the trash. It starts with my face. I see my face. It looks bigger. It has a few blemishes, white spots, dark spots. My eyes have little bags under them from how exhausted I am. I like to think of my face as a staple, so I quickly flash a smile to lighten my mood. Then, I see the way my arms are a little undertoned. I grab the fat under my triceps and try to stay unbothered. Making my way down, I check out my breasts and see how they sag. What a shame. Nodding my head, I run into a wall. I reached the part of my body that I'm self conscious about the most, my belly. I squeeze it, purge it out and see how even bigger it gets. I wish I could cut off all the excess. I wish I could see my abs, but no. Disgusted, I grab my love handles and close my eyes to reflect on how insecure I really am. After a few minutes, I open my eyes and twirl around. I check out my less than plump butt. It's covered in stretch marks, you might as well call me a zebra. The lines lead to my legs. I've never thought my legs were too bad, but still, they're tree trunks. I still get the worse chub rub and it makes me ponder why they remain so big after I train them. In the mirror, I flex them as hard as I can and I can barely see my muscles at surface. Once again, disappointment.

I did a complete body check and here I am again staring at myself in the mirror. By now, I've passed the disappointment and slipped into a depression. I look at myself with no happiness. I have pictures surrounding my mirror. These pictures include my role models. I look at my role models, more of which are in the fitness world and see how my body is no where close to looking like theirs. I guess you could call this self-punishment, but besides this, I open up Twitter and Facebook with no intentions to body shame myself even further and still manage to be disappointed. There are multiple extravagant models every time I scroll down. People like Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid. They have perfect skin, bodies. They set an image and I think to myself, "Why can't I fit this image?"

I'll admit. It's sad the way that I look at myself. It's sad that I can't take a compliment because I genuinely don't believe anything anyone tells me about my body. I know my body better than anyone else, shouldn't I be seeing it like everyone else? No. Maybe my mind is sending my eyes illusions because I don't see what others see. I don't see someone beautiful. I don't see someone who is confident in their own skin. I see someone who is imperfect and broken.

How can someone see themselves in this way? I'll tell you, it's horrible, but I live with it. Deeply insecure on the inside, I try to hide it in the clothes and make up that I see fit to flatter me. However, it'll never be good enough for me. I may have a problem, but the bigger problem is, is with the media. The media sets expectations that hardly anyone can reach. Girls are meant to be skinny, but with curves. Girls are to have radiant skin, hair and nails. In short, girls have to look like Barbie dolls. I'm stupid for feeding into this BS, but the media knows how to seep into your skin.

I've mentioned before that I know my worth. Sometimes, it's not all about looks. I have an exclusive personality and can charm just about anyone. It's great and all, but we all have a fatal flaw. Mine just happens to be that I body shame myself. It's going to take a lot of time for me to get where I want to be. I just have to be patient and understand that I'm imperfectly perfect. Not only do I have to learn, but if you have my problem or any shame in the person you are or the body God has given you, remember to love yourself. Only YOU can make a change. Only YOU can make a difference. We're all unique and beautiful in our own ways. I'm still on the road to acceptance, but at I'm least I'm trying. Isn't it the thought and effort that counts?

All in all, I need to stop body shaming myself. I can never, I will never live up to the medias expectations. It's practically impossible. Besides that, it's not always what's on the outside that matters most. I have friends and family who love me for me and I should be very appreciative that I have them. I always say, "There's always room for improvement," and there sure is. However, the best that I can be is me and what my body and mind will allow me to do. Everyone is different and sulking in my own misery by body shaming won't help me meet my goals. The body shaming hasn't stop and probably will never stop, but what is life without having standards and expectations for yourself to live up to?