self-love

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I take myself out to dinner and do not look at my phone once. I do not call a friend up and ask them to join me. I listen attentively to the conversation in my head. I walk with myself to the library. Read novels, magazines, dusty collections of poetry. Browse zines online and buy a stack of ones that catch my interest. I close my eyes in bed and put my hands in-between my thighs. Know when to go faster, when to slow down, when to speed it up. I moan without shame. I make myself coffee, sip it languorously on my balcony, let my bare shoulders be warmed by the sun and ignore my neighbor’s sideways looks. I put on lipstick on the days I am not leaving the house. Walk around confidently, wearing only underwear and carelessness. Shake my limbs to the busting beat of a song and do not worry about my arms going one way and my legs another. I bite down hard on “monogamy.” Swish it around in my mouth, run my tongue over its bumps and curves, and then spit it out. I bleed on scraps of paper. Let my thoughts out. Listen to them more intently than any person could. I see all parts of me and do not blush. I do not look away. I do not try to run. I stare deeper. Force myself to keep eye contact. Accept all that is inside of me. Make my apologies. I bend my hands in forgiveness. I rise, dripping in the blood of past and future guilt and say, it is okay. All of you. All of me. It is okay.

In A Committed Relationship With Myself | Lora Mathis 
 (via lora-mathis)

would u call this narcissism or self-love pt. 2  (via lora-mathis)

This.

(via guiltypleasures11)

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bdsmgeek:

theunicornkittenkween:

espikvlt.com

Growing up, I was the ugly freak girl. I had long black hair that I hid behind, and for a long time, I would wear multiple layers in the summer. My mom would ask why I was wearing a big black hoodie in the dead of summer, and I’d tell her it was because I wasn’t really hot. It was a lie. I hated myself, and the way I looked. In 6th grade, we submitted our baby photos for the year book, and I overheard a girl say to her friend, “Aw, [Espi] used to be so cute! What happened!” I was compared to every horror movie character under the sun. I was even called “Gothika” by a group of boys, which didn’t make much sense, but they thought it was very clever.

Then I started waking up getting tired of hating myself. Towards the end of high school, I decided I just wouldn’t anymore. I started looking in the mirror every morning and pointing out what I loved, instead of what I hated. And I still do that. I started taking lots of pictures of myself. The selfie was a huge step towards self-love. I realized that as long as I acted confident, I would become confident, and it worked!

Now I love how I look, and can’t believe I was so blind to it all those years. Every freckle, my huge eyes, my stick-thin wrists, have all become parts of myself I’ve learned to love. It took a lot more time to go to the mirror and point out what I thought were flaws and turn them into things I love, but I’m happier in my appearance now than ever, and I feel truly blessed to be born into this body. I wouldn’t change it for the world. x

This story sort of really hits home with me. I notice a lot of similarities in our formative years and our coping mechanisms. And this write-up is so perfect I don’t have much to add but my personal support. 

I think you’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. (and considering my cat just jumped up on my lap and is laying on my arm and staring at your photo while I finish typing this one handed, I believe she concurs). Keep up your positive outlook, keep the selfie game strong. And keep on being you. <3 

This is a great story.

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frickyeah-attractivepeople:

i remember even just a year ago, i’d see pictures all the time of people with captions saying “i’m ugly” and stuff like that

but now, just about every day on my dash, it’s gotten to be like a thing where people will say “my hair looked super cute today” or “i’ve been feeling so body positive lately”

how awesome is that

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msjenai:

problackgirl:

i love being called pretty in general but i especially love it when other black girls call me pretty like yes, yes i am pretty and so are you. we’re both so pretty. look at us pretty black girls being aware of our prettiness. i love it

YES!

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