I woke up looking like a family of rats live in my awkwardly two-toned hair.
I woke up with breath that would make a goat take two steps back.
I woke up cranky and stubborn.
I took a shower, put on my clothes and black eyeliner and marched through the hallways of my high school like I’d never had a fear in my life.
Every morning when I wake up, my demons wake up with me.
My insecurities and anger follow me through the hallways.
But I keep walking.
I keep smiling
I keep living out loud.
I refuse to be silenced by my own demons.
They remind me of the scars covering my arms and legs.
I tell them my scars tell my story.
They try to tell me that I’m too skinny, that I should have curves.
I tell them I like my body the way it is.
They try to tell me no one will ever love me.
I tell them that I love myself and that’s important.
I have flaws of course, I have many flaws.
But if I didn’t, think of how boring I would be.
None of us are flawless, but our flaws make us who we are.
And why on earth would you want to be anyone else?