The Unseen Scars

My life hasn't been a fairytale. It's been a quiet struggle, marked by a deep unhappiness and a gnawing feeling of unworthiness. The desire for love to give it and to receive it is a constant ache, but it's often overshadowed by a belief that I'm somehow undeserving. I tell myself I don't deserve to be loved, that I'm not worthy of happiness, and that persistent voice makes it hard to believe otherwise. It's a heavy weight to carry, this feeling of being fundamentally flawed, of not quite measuring up.

But there are moments, precious fleeting moments, when the weight lifts. It happens when I'm hiking through a forest, the sunlight dappling through the leaves, or sitting by the ocean, listening to the waves crash against the shore. In those wild, beautiful spaces, I find a kind of peace, a temporary escape from the relentless self-criticism. It's not a permanent fix, not a cure, but it's enough to keep me going, to remind me that there's beauty in the world, even when I can't seem to find it within myself.

I'm searching for a path, a direction, a place where I can finally feel whole. A place where the emptiness inside doesn't feel so vast, where the loneliness doesn't feel so crushing. I don't know what that place looks like, or if I'll ever truly find it, but the hope remains, a stubborn little ember in the darkness. Maybe it's about learning to love myself, to accept the parts of me that feel broken, to forgive myself for the things I've done and haven't done. Maybe it's about finding people who see past the flaws and see the good, the potential, the person I long to be. Whatever it is, I'm on the journey, and that's something. 🦋💙