Monday, 5 March 2018

Yes, I like myself.




I gave my mind the freedom to wander, and it led the way to a place of self-appreciation.  Absentmindedly I found myself thinking that I am, in fact, pretty great. It hit me that I really love myself. For a split-second, I felt paralysed with joy, and then almost immediately I scolded myself for this movement in my mind. I let it spiral into a stream of negativity. I couldn't help but think, when did I become so big headed, so self-obsessed?


Ironically. I continued to dislike myself, for liking myself. I was punishing myself, for carelessly feeling appreciative of me, when I realised I'd entered a gloomy paradox, a world of self-loathing because I felt ashamed to admit that actually, I'm alright.

Something I've been trying to remember is:

What others think of me, is none of my business. 

And although sometimes I feel like doing the ugliest crying when a boy doesn't fancy me back,  and there is an everlasting potent fear at the back of my mind that I am the friend who nobody really likes. These are things which still existed within my realm of self-love, they are things which I had found reached a point of acceptance with.

The only reason my self-love caused self-loathing, is the paranoia in my mind that echoed the mocking faceless voices of others chanting 'Chloe love herself" 'Get over yourself".  Narcissistic, I know.

Does it really matter what the people which my mind has materialised think of me, even if there is an overlap between them and the ones who make footprints in my world beyond my head? What others think of me, is none of my business, after all.


I am not saying I am perfect, I am not saying I haven't made mistakes. But I like who I am. I am not defined by my mistakes, yet they have helped shape the woman I've become.

Every moment of my life, I spend with myself, I have to endure every thought that crosses my mind, and live with the consequences of my every action, with that in mind, I'd rather not add to the stress of ~living~ by deciding  I'm not good enough.

What defines not good enough?
I get to decide, and I'd say, I am more than enough.

I should not feel guilty for the ping of joy I feel when a thought crosses my mind that I know is mine alone, and I love that I can look in the mirror and not be filled with disgust or disregard for the person I am growing into. I feel a sense of pride in the body I walk in and the values I hold.

My happiness should not be tarnished because society offers out reminders, that perfect does not exist, although some do a great job of mirroring it what it seems like across Instagram feeds. We live beyond the squares of Instagram, and you can decide beyond the curation of perfect images is a joyful place to be.

It's freeing to wake up in the morning and to be happy with you.





Outfit Details
Trousers: M&S

Photography: Madeleine Grace


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