my body, my “self control” (which is really just restriction in disguise) are the least exciting things about me. yet I choose to build my identity around those boring blah things. I tell myself i know //my body, my looks, my perfectionism// are not my worth. but i still //restrict, obsess, self loath// because I believe everyone else is still sick. the rest of the world still thinks those things are number one most important. it’s not me, its you. i blame the world.
&yeahyeah, I know I shouldn’t. I know I am the one to blame. but you know what? it’s like really freaking hard to have the “I don’t give a fuck mentality”. &i don’t know how to get to that mindset. I don’t know how to be like a flower, to bloom without worrying about the rest of the garden. but I do know life is too short & too precious to sit around waiting for the rest of the world to change.
“we must have stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world” //big magic, elizabeth gilbert//
“you do you & i’ll do me” on repeat until the words I speak become the truth I believe.
