I Am...

I am strong and beautiful.

I wonder how different my life would be if I never believed those awful things I was told.

I hear their sick words and sadistic laughs every time I start to gain back my confidence.

I see them laughing and whispering and looking back so I know.

I want to be accpeted, to be that girl that doesn't believe a word they've said.

I am strong and beautiful.


I pretend that I'm not even phased by their open judgement and hate.

I feel like every day is a battle between who I am and who they think I am.

I touch my face in the morning and push my hair back to get a better view. 

I worry that I'll never see myself like the way I used to.

I cry because I no longer see the beauty I did before I met them.

I am strong and beautiful.


I understand that I am not what they think, that there's more to me than the words of strangers.

I say to myself, "You ARE beautiful," every morning, in hopes that one day I'll actually believe it.

I dream of the time when I had confidence and believed I could be a model.

I try to gain back the confidence I had before I went into that cruel, cruel school.

I hope that one day, when I look at myself in the mirror, I will look past the scars they led me to inflict on my skin, look past my flaws, and see the girl that I used to see, and I will see all the beauty she has and how brave she has been.

I am strong and beautiful.

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