Bouquet

path

I learned how to hate myself before I even knew that loving myself was an option.

I learned that it was normal to look at yourself in the mirror and cry for hours at your reflection
I learned that it was normal to not consider yourself worthy of anything 

But I didn't understand how badly I actually hated myself until I learned the concept of loving oneself.
Now I look back at moments where I found it absolutely, fucking outrageous to even consider that someone at a party might find me beautiful.
I wouldn't even consider the idea of someone crushing on me or entering a relationship
I would never have thought twice if I meant even a little bit to someone.

But now I have found a small sunshine-filled clearing in the darkest of woods.
I haven't made it out yet
I am still searching for the path out
But for the first time ever

I find myself able to breathe.

I find myself alleviated of some of the sadness
Some of the self-hatred
I am in no way suddenly filled with love For myself
No. Not at all.

But I am finding it easier to forgive myself
To slowly get back up From falling onto the rocky path
My knees still bleed
I still have scars from previous falls 
I still have sensitive spots like freckles on my skin
But I am more than just a bystander to someone else's story.