Wake up, roll out of bed, dress to impress.

Dress to impress?  Impress whom?

Surely not the perky barista handing me my espresso-loaded coffee.

Certainly not the middle-aged man nearly playing bumper cars with me in traffic.

Heaven knows not the overtired teenagers shuffling in and out of classrooms.

Oh no, I seek to awe only one person: myself.

Why?  One reason.

Countless years I spent battling with myself,

one look in the mirror had me in tears,

and looking too long only caused bubbling anger and increased self-hatred.

An enraged youth who never seemed to learn to rise above body negativity,

who could never comprehend her inner worth.

It took ten years and endless nights of crying for me to see my real self

and not some mutilated perception built on hate and stereotypes.

By releasing my inner toxicity, I also rid myself of the external poison,

those “friends” who shamed me to make themselves feel prettier,

and instead found companions who love me and encourage me to love myself.

I may not be society’s idea of “beautiful” or “desirable”

but I’ll be damned if I say that I don’t rock my look.

So no, I do not aim to please those around me

because it amounts to nothing in the end other than self-loathing.

I would rather spend my efforts pleasing myself since I am the one I see in the mirror.

And when I catch a glimpse of my reflection, I want to be able to say,

“Damn, who is that girl?  She is glowing, she is radiant” and believe it.

Hell, I can say more than “I’m beautiful,” because I am flawless.