For all these years, even I haven’t been able to understand myself. Your efforts are in vain.
I see myself as a mixture of so many things altogether. It is difficult to know what it all looks like in the end. A mix of emotions, feelings, experiences and people. I think I am all of that. Maybe, more than that. Maybe, not. I see myself differently, everyday. I still haven’t understood what I really am.
I am yet to figure out what happiness means to me. I still don’t know if I love myself. I ponder all night. I try hard to understand what life means. I try hard to accept what I am. I try to see myself from your eyes sometimes. I am not that great. I wonder if you’ve realized that. Maybe, I am just trying to be the kind of person you want me to be. Maybe, I am just trying really hard to fit right in your eyes. To be your beautiful. To be yours. I am trying. And in the middle of all the chaos, I am trying hard, to fit my soul in my own body.
To accept that I belong inside this body.
These are my eyes, to see the world. These are my lips, to kiss you at night. These are my hands, to hold as much as I can, and these are my legs, to move around in this world.
Every time, I have looked at myself in the mirror, I have tried to find my soul. I have tried to see if it’s happy with whatever’s happening on the outside. I look at my palms. I look at the lines. I try to find happiness. I try to convince myself that all the imperfections that I am blessed with are beautiful. Anything that is perfect, isn’t real. That every beautiful person, is imperfect. I am different. I am not like anybody else, and that I should take pride. I should love the difference. I should stop comparing myself to other bodies. We are all meant to be the way we are, and we are supposed to find peace.
For the time when my body wasn’t loved, for the time, when I didn’t like what I was looking at in the mirror, I apologize. I forgot to understand the agony of my soul. For every time, I cursed what I look like, for every time, I complained about what I appear to be, I am sorry. I am sorry, I did not realize that my soul was trying so hard to be inside. My soul was thirsty for love and most importantly, it was longing for acceptance. It was waiting for me to be happy with whatever I am. So that my happiness could dig it’s way to my soul, and finally quench the thirst.”